Villainous Heroics
by ibelieveinahappilyeverafter
Summary: Present Mic is the newest villain in the world and he has a point to prove to everyone out there as long as he doesn't get distracted by Eraserhead. Aizawa Shota learns that there is more to someone than the mask they show to the world, and Yamada Hizashi learns that there's more to heroics and villainy than he thought. (Inspired by corndog-patrol's Villain!Mic AU on Tumblr.)
1. Chapter 1

Bonjour, mes chers! Right. For those of you who don't know me, I'm not _new_ here, but this is my first Hero Academia story! As you will quickly be able to tell, this is inspired and dedicated to corndog-patrol's Villain!Mic AU over on Tumblr! Definitely go check them and their AU out because the art is to die for and I couldn't help but to cobble something together for it all.

For those who need a recap or don't know, this is an AU in which Present Mic never went to U. A. and thus never met Eraserhead. Present Mic ends up becoming a villain and the hero who always ends up stopping him is Eraserhead himself. They're 30 as they are in the start of the show and Eraserhead is still the teacher of class 1-A at U. A. Villain!Mic tends to be a bit of a goofball in this AU, however, and it all ends with a happy ending.

Also, yes, this story is EraserMic because I am a humble shipper who has been reading every story for these two on AO3 for the past week or two. Hopefully I can provide a good story for you all and do this AU the justice it deserves!

Enjoy!

(Warning - This story will touch upon themes of past child abuse in the future as I explain my take on Present Mic's background in this AU. I'll put warnings on the chapters in question in the future, but here's your warning, now!)

Edited Note: One of the scenes at the end of this chapter was directly inspired by the comic made for this AU by anxioussailorsoldier over on tumblr: anxioussailorsoldier tumblr com/post/181601844418. So sorry for not giving you credit, before, I definitely know I meant to where it was such an amazing work of art. Definitely go give the artist some love!

* * *

Aizawa Shota stared at the aged, decrypt bar that was buzzing with music so loud the building itself might as well have been shaking itself to pieces. He certainly wouldn't be surprised if the crumbled brick walls were from the music if this is how nights normally went. He had originally been responding to a call about a public disturbance that had possibly morphed into a bar fight, but one look at the place had Shota rubbing at the bridge of his nose and wondering if it was too early for retirement.

While he didn't mind breaking up the average bar fight as they could lead to rather dangerous outcomes, it was never his favorite thing to do while on a patrol. Still, he was a pro hero, and an underground one at that. If he had to break up a bar fight, then so be it. He just wished he didn't have to deal with drunken idiots who didn't have control over their quirks.

Adjusting his goggles and swinging himself down to the street level, Shota lightly landed on the balls of his feet before settling his capture weapon back around his neck, careful as he circled around to the back of the bar and entered through an unlocked 'Employees Only' door. The music was even louder when he entered, and the kitchen was in utter disarray. Shota wasn't sure if that was from the supposed bar fight, though, or if that was just the typical state of this bar. He was willing to believe in the latter, considering the area he was in.

Creeping towards the swinging door, he paused as he surveyed the bar just out of sight and saw… He wasn't sure what he was seeing. There was a fair amount of what looked like drunken idiots, but everyone in the bar seemed to be singing to the same annoying American song that was playing on the karaoke machine.

Feeling a vibration from his pocket, Shota inched his way back into the dark kitchen and took his phone out, scrolling through the text alert from his agency - the only number he let through when he was out on patrol besides a select few others.

' _Update: Bar on Block 7 thought to be held hostage by new villain with unknown quirk. Proceed with caution._ '

"Wonderful," Shota muttered to himself, looking back up at the door and trying to decide if he could force someone else in his agency to deal with this. Considering he was the only hero not actively out on a mission, he doubted it.

Creeping back into the bar, Shota looked for whoever this new villain could be. A second look showed a lot of the people who were singing looked nervous or frightened, but a few of the drunker ones looked to be having the time of their no doubt short lives. It was unsurprising to see that almost everyone in the bar were well into their thirties and forties, but at least that meant he didn't have to worry about getting some stupid kids out of here.

Looking to the bar, Shota silently realized that he may have found his villain. He doubted there would be any other reason for a man to be dressed in nothing except leather and piercings with yellow hair slicked up like a bird's crest. He also had on what looked to be some type of support equipment around his neck and ears that had Shota placing a hand on his scarf. If this was the villain, then his quirk was unknown, but it didn't look like a physical mutation quirk - that was some good news for Shota, at least. If it was a danger, then he could erase it and be done with this mess.

The man looked well on his way to being drunk and had all the enthusiasm of a university student out for break, tossing back shots and looking to be singing along to the song along with the rest of the bar. While this new villain didn't look like much of a threat, Shota had never gone wrong in being cautious.

After one last look over to make sure there were no obvious weapons or traps, Shota leapt forward and threw his scarf out, wrapping it around the man tightly and yanking him off the bar and onto his feet, shot glass jerked out of his hand with the movement and shattering on the floor.

"Oi, oi, that's top shelf!" Even being wrapped up and unable to move, the villain looked as if he was having the time of his life. He didn't look young enough to actually be a university student, but maybe this was some kind of dare or hazing attempt? "Leave it to a hero to come crashing down on such a rockin' party!"

"I don't think your hostages consider this a party." Shota tightened his grip on the scarf, raising an eyebrow when the villain only _beamed_ at him. "I don't suppose you'd be willing to come quietly?"

Those who weren't drunk idiots were scrambling out of the way - either leaving the bar entirely or finding a place to hide. Shota noticed a few of them were still singing up on the stage, looking completely unconcerned.

"What? You're not even gonna ask for my name, first?" The villain gave a wide and toothy smile, orange tinted sunglasses slipping down the bridge of his nose. "I thought they raised you heroes with some manners."

"Shockingly enough, those manners don't apply to villains like you. I'll ask you one more time - come quietly." Shota didn't bother to make it much of a question, instead checking to make sure the path to the door was clear and getting ready to use his quirk as soon as he would need it.

"Man, you're such a drag, Eraserhead." Whatever amusement Shota had in the situation vanished quickly as he looked back to the grinning villain. Shota knew that he was known as a pro hero, but he was an _underground_ hero. The public wasn't meant to know his name - villains, however… They knew his name. "Oh? That got your attention… Ready to hear my name, then?"

Shota gave a little tsk, finally nodding his head. Honestly, these types got more and more dramatic each year. He couldn't believe some of them thought fighting in _leather_ was _comfortable_ , not to mention the sunglasses when they were in a dark bar.

"You're looking at the one and only Voice Villain – Present Mic!" The villain - Present Mic - gave a wide grin and looked like he had no fear. Shota could only stare, finally managing to find the words to describe the feeling he had inside of him.

"That's a stupid name." What was that even supposed to mean? Present Mic? It sounded like he just put some 'cool' English words together. Voice Villain, though… That meant his quirk no doubt had something to do with his voice.

"Hey now, that's a great name!" Present Mic looked thoroughly offended and he _still_ wasn't fighting back.

"Sure. You can tell me all about it on the way to the police station." Jerking his scarf forward to make the man start moving, Shota watched as he whined and complained and screamed out a rather loud good night and goodbye to everyone in the bar.

Shota was tense the entire way to the police station as he waited for Present Mic to finally use his quirk and escape, but all he did was talk and talk and _talk_. Shota was starting to wonder if his quirk was simply annoying people with his voice when they finally got to the station, Shota handing the man off to police officers. Again, he half expected a fight, but Present Mic just grinned at him, seeming pleased as could be.

"Looks like our time together has come to an end, Eraserhead, but don't worry! I'm sure we'll meet again very soon." Staring at Present Mic for a long moment, Shota finally gave a snort of laughter.

"Right. Have fun playing arch nemesis, then." It happened occasionally that some thug or up and coming troublemaker would target him as some rival or enemy and take him out. They were usually kids that he could scare straight, but this guy looked as if he had just had one drink too many and needed a few days to sober up. Considering he hadn't even bothered fighting back and no one in the bar had looked hurt, Shota was sure 'Present Mic' wouldn't get charged with more than stealing some alcohol and being a public disturbance. "Night, Current Wire or whatever-"

"Oi! Present Mic! My name is _Present Mic_!" Honestly, like a toddler kicking up a fuss. Well, at least Present Mic had made his night briefly interesting and now he could go home and get some sleep. Not a terrible night, he supposed.

::

A week later from his first meeting with Present Mic and Shota was starting to wonder what gods he had managed to piss off. A response to a series of disturbances in bars along his patrol route showed that the villain was back at it again and this was the _third time_ he was fighting the man - and fighting was a strong word.

"C'mon, Eraser, surely we can come to an understanding? You know, there's this diner I know that's open late-" Present Mic cut himself off with a grunt as Shota's fist connected with his stomach, a quick kick making the other's knees buckle before he was hitting the ground.

"Sorry, I don't go out with villains. Ready to come to the police station, yet?" It was too late to be dealing with this.

"Aw, but I thought we were having fun!" The pout looked ridiculous on a man that had to be around Shota's own age and it was starting to piss him off that he _still_ didn't know what the man's quirk was, yet. He could probably find out from the police station, but that seemed like too much effort when he didn't care that much. "How about you at least agree to come with me for a coffee date?"

"How about no." The second Present Mic was back on his feet, he was charging towards Shota, who was a little impressed with the guy's speed. It wasn't enough to really surprise him, though, and soon Present Mic was collapsed on the floor and groaning again.

Looking to the latest bar owner, Shota pointed at Present Mic as he spoke, "Call the police and let them know I'm bringing him in. They'll handle whatever charges you want to press."

"Please." The owner was an older lady who looked to have been in her fair share of fights, black tail, claws, and ears showing she head a mutation quirk. "He's not even the most troublesome patron I've had. Damn loud, though."

"Mm." Civilians in this prefecture were always stranger than most, Shota had noticed. He wasn't sure if that made his job easier or harder some days, though. "Still."

With that, Shota wrapped Present Mic up in his scarf, once again grateful for his capture weapon as he tugged the man out of the bar before stopping on the sidewalk to properly tie his wrists behind his back with the weapon, bemoaning his lack of handcuffs. He really did need to get more, soon.

"You had better wrap it tight, baby, or I'll escape." Present Mic's flirtatious tone, Shota decided, was the most annoying part of him – that and his _pet names_. The second most annoying part was the fact that he didn't even seem like a _villain_. He was more of a misguided annoyance.

"Why are you even telling me that? Don't you want to escape, _villain_?" Giving a tug to make sure the knot was tight, Shota glanced up to see that Present Mic was looking over his shoulder, soft expression on his face. Shota noticed his sunglasses, multiple piercings, and ridiculous hair looked a touch less stupid with that expression.

"From _you_ , hero? Never." Meeting the other's eyes and staring for a long moment, Shota finally snorted and gave the man's ankles a kick to get him moving.

"I'm turning you over to the police." And there was the pout, again, ineffective as always.

"Aw, man."

If nothing else, Shota supposed that Present Mic broke up the monotony of his usual nightly patrols. It was nice dealing with some tipsy idiot with a leather fetish rather than wasting a night on useless tips that never seemed to lead anywhere.

He just wasn't sure how to deal with this new 'villain,' though, when he started setting up traps to capture Shota and ended up falling into them himself.

"Ah, Eraserhead! You're probably wondering why I'm upside down like this-"

"I'm not."

"-but it's all a part of my master plan to capture you!"

No, Shota's nights certainly weren't boring anymore. He wondered if it was too late to change patrol routes.


	2. Chapter 2

Look, let me give you the short of it. I fell in absolute love with this AU and now I have the full story plotted out to be around eighteen chapters when fully written. I have not written this much in months. _It's worth it_.

Also, for those new here, I have a tumblr at ibelieveinahappilyeverafter! Come check me out to find more stories, ways of supporting my writing, or even just a way to tip me $3 so I can buy a candy bar so I can keep writing until five in the morning like I did for chapter one.

Enjoy!

Note - In the original AU designed by corndog-patrol, Hizashi worked at a McDonald's type place, but I changed that to be a coffee shop for multiple reasons - mostly because Shota is more likely to go for coffee over actual food and because I am a writer of cliches.

* * *

Yamada Hizashi knew well what this feeling was. He had never felt it as strong as he did now, but what else could it be? Whenever he was around _him,_ Hizashi found his palms becoming drenched in nervous sweat, his heart tripping into overtime like the beats of an EDM song, and his words stumbling over each other in their rush to get out as quickly as possible. He had known the stirrings of this feeling when he was younger and didn't know the world as well, but now at a comfortable thirty, he knew this was _real_.

Hizashi was head-over-heels in love with the hero known as Eraserhead and no one could tell him otherwise! Every waking thought seemed to be filled with that suave, mysterious, and _sexy_ man that was always quick to put an end to the fun of 'Present Mic.' It was like Hizashi could think of nothing else these days.

"Oi, Yamada! Get your head out of the clouds and go be cashier!" Startling at the rough voice of his boss, Hizashi hid a pout as he shuffled over to the cash register with a long-suffering sigh. Genius was never appreciated in its own time, he supposed.

"Welcome to Lovely Coffee, how may I help you on this lovely day?" If the customer noticed how unenthusiastic he was, she didn't comment, only ordering with a monotone voice as she stared down at her phone.

Hizashi sighed and tried to focus his thoughts on work even as they kept straying back to Eraserhead. While he had heard of the hero before his villainous debut, he had never known just how _funny_ the man was. Eraser could kick his ass into next week, had a sharp, dry wit that most people seemed to miss, and didn't even really seem angry whenever he ran into Present Mic - although there were a lot of insults and mocking, when Hizashi reflected on it.

Well, that just meant it was a challenge to get something else out of him! Hizashi may be a villain, but he was a realistic villain with realistic goals. That meant he wasn't going to stop until he managed to capture Eraserhead and charm him into a date that, with a good deal of luck, would end in a kiss - maybe two!

The only real problem to his master plan, though, seemed to be the fact that none of his traps ever wanted to _work_. If Hizashi wasn't stumbling into them himself, then Eraserhead was disabling them with ruthless efficiency or turning them back around on Hizashi himself. He was pretty sure the police were getting a laugh out of Present Mic being brought in with his _own_ handcuffs stuck on him.

"Welcome to Lovely Coffee." Maybe the problem was that Eraserhead seemed to take him _too_ seriously as a villain. "How may I-" Hizashi's words tangled around a startled squeak as he finally noticed who his next customer was.

"Oi, I don't look that bad." The words were light and amused more than anything, but Hizashi couldn't even respond because _Eraserhead was standing right in front of him_. What was the statistical probability of Eraserhead coming to the coffee shop he worked at? Low. Those odds had to be very, very low. Right, okay, Hizashi was being stared at. He just needed to act natural.

"N- No! I didn't mean- It was just- Sorry!" Well, at least he wouldn't be mistaken for his villain persona since his hair was down and he was wearing his regular prescription glasses with the hideous, bulky frame. He also couldn't seem to get two words out. "How may I help you?"

The man's eyes trailed to the board behind him and Hizashi couldn't stop a wince at how sleep deprived he looked. He knew Eraserhead worked nights primarily, but did he ever _sleep_? His eyes were bloodshot and worryingly red and the bags under his eyes were the size of the sun. Maybe it had something to do with the man's quirk? Hizashi didn't know much about Erasure, but he had certainly heard stories considering the prefecture he lived in.

"I'll just have a black coffee in whatever size is the largest." Oh, jeez, Eraserhead really didn't sleep any, huh? He also didn't seem to have any sense of taste whatsoever if he was asking for black coffee.

"Of course. No problem." Grabbing a cup, Hizashi glanced behind the man. While there was no one behind him waiting to make him do this, this was still a great opportunity. "What's the name for the order?"

"Aizawa." Scribbling the name out with a marker, Hizashi tried to hide his success. While he didn't know the man's first name, now he knew that Eraserhead's name was _Aizawa_. It… was a good name. Giving his name also _proved_ that he didn't know who Hizashi reallywas. "Can I add espresso shots?"

"Oh- Yeah! Definitely." Really, Hizashi supposed that was unsurprising. The man looked like the walking dead. Hizashi hoped that the other would be able to take a nap, soon. "How many-"

"Six." Eraserhead - _Aizawa_ \- looked him dead in the eyes and didn't even blink at Hizashi's expression - which was pure and utter terror.

"S… Six? You, um, you do know-"

"I know." Right. Okay. Sure.

"Of course, sir. I'll get right on that."

While Hizashi would have been delighted to use this opportunity to get more information out of the man, he'd wait until next time they met as hero and villain. Right now, he was a poor barista who was behind on his rent, and Aizawa was a sleep deprived man who had ordered six shots of espresso in his _black_ coffee. Hizashi was only mortal.

::

A few nights later proved to be his next fated run in with what would one day be his star-crossed lover. Hizashi had done his research this time, though, and had been ready for every possibility - except for the manufacturer of his latest trap to be a pile of shit.

Caught up in Eraserhead's scarf and thoroughly unable to move, Hizashi tried not to thank the man for punching him – he at least took some solace in the fact that his brain-to-mouth filter wasn't completely broken. He also had some solace in the fact that before Eraserhead had shown up, he had dealt with a couple of gang members that were known for beating up teenagers who wouldn't join them.

"You're a horrible villain." The two were face to face and Eraser looked honestly _flustered_ , trying to catch his breath as he pushed his goggles up to rest on his forehead. Hizashi supposed he _had_ put up a bit of a fight, this time, where he was still high off adrenaline from his first fight and the fact Eraserhead had _joined_ him when the gang had started getting a little too pissed.

"Does that make me a good hero?" The question slipped out before he could stop it, and he almost wished he could take it back as soon as it was out - almost. He was too curious as to how the man would respond to really want to take it back.

"No. It makes you a _nuisance_." Ah, well. Hizashi could at least say he was expecting something like that - of course he was. Him? A hero? It was the funniest joke he had ever heard. A part of him that had never quite let go of that dream, though, felt utterly crushed. He quickly hid it with a wide smile.

"Ouch! You wound me, Eraserhead!" It hurt - reminders like that always hurt - but, well, the show must go on.

"I wish," Eraser muttered, kicking at Hizashi's heels to get him moving. Hizashi dodged the kick as he started walking, frowning at the man as he did so.

"Hey, hey, these are some high-class leather boots, you know. Do you know much time and money boots like this cost?" Dodging another kick, Hizashi decided that for as in love as he was, Eraserhead was still a little shit. "C'mon, I helped beat up some known thugs, can't you take it easy on me?"

"You also started a bar fight earlier and threw three people out a window." Staring for a long moment, Hizashi finally shook his head with a frown.

"I thought it was four?" He could have sworn it was four… Oh, right. "Ah, right, the fourth one was me."

"Mm. You also robbed a thrift shop." The look Eraserhead gave him was full of judgement. "There was a jewelry shop right next door, you know."

"Yeah, but good people work there. The owner of the thrift shop isn't. He's a dick who says he'll sell you back something at the price he gave to you for it, and _instead_ he jacks up the price by almost ten thousand yen."

"Is that why all his papers and receipts were on fire when I got there." Was that amusement? Hizashi _swore_ that was some amusement in Eraser's tone. "That's illegal, you know."

"Well, I _am_ a villain."

Not even an hour later and Hizashi was being handed over to the police in the area, waving at Eraserhead as he was cornered with some paperwork. "Good night, Eraser. I'll see you next time!"

"Please don't." There was what could have almost been a smile on the man's face as Hizashi let himself be pushed and pulled towards his usual holding cell, the officer guiding him shaking her head.

"You know, if you need help, there are places you can get it - programs and opportunities that you could take part of."

"Mm, no, I'm good."

While a few of the cops, like Shelly, were sweet and genuinely concerned about those who deserved it, some of them were utter assholes who were villains in their own right. Hizashi made sure to remember who those were and let them know just how 'annoying' he could be when they were on duty.

The 'regulars' in the holding cell were much the same way. Some of them were nastier than any villain could be, but a good deal of them were just people down on their luck or in the wrong place at the wrong time.

"How's your love affair with that hero of yours, Mic?" Swooning into the cell as soon as he was uncuffed, Hizashi clutched his heart and collapsed onto an uncomfortable metal bench.

"I'll never recover, Lydia, I swear it. Eraserhead is my true love and soulmate and I'll never be able to do without him again." The woman snorted and laughed, tired expression leaving in favor of an honest smile.

"You'll get him. Soulmates always find a way to make it work, after all, yeah?" As Lydia talked, she shifted to hide a younger girl behind her better, Hizashi frowning at the action. "Hm? Oh, Lucy. It's her first night. Not a good one, either."

The girl, Lucy, looked to just barely be in her twenties with a shirt a size too small and shoulders and midriff uncovered and bare to the world. Hizashi could easily see why the two were pressed into a corner of the cell, Lydia's gaze sharp and angry on any man that got too close or let his gaze linger for too long.

"Let me tell you about bad nights," Hizashi groaned, pitching his voice higher and aiming for dramatic as he stood up with a stretch, fighting with his jacket before getting it off. "I almost _thanked_ him for punching me."

"You are a wreck, aren't you?" Lydia stared at the jacket as Hizashi held it out, only taking it when Hizashi gave a smile. "A sweet one, though."

"Oi, oi, there's no such thing as a sweet villain!" As soon as the jacket was around Lucy's shoulders, the girl lost some of her tension, looking at him with a slow smile. "You'll vouch for me, right, Lucy? I'm the meanest villain on these streets!"

"The absolute worst," Lucy nodded, voice quiet and small as she slid her arms through the jacket and tucked it around her.

"See, Lydia? You worry so much and yet Lucy here is going to be stronger than me." The two girls looked at him and Lydia finally gave a sad smile, shaking her head.

"Baby, what are you doing playing villain?"

Before he could answer, there was a tapping against the side of the bars, drawing their attention. "Alright, Present Mic, get over here and make your phone call."

"Finally! Here I thought you guys were ignoring me, too!" Hizashi pouted and hid his unease at Lydia's question as he bounced over to accept the burner flip phone, dialing up the number of his boss. "How long am I here for, this time?"

"Two days, at least." Shelly crossed her arms, looking like a disapproving mother. "More if the owner of the bar and thrift shop press charges."

"They won't." Probably. Shaking his head, Hizashi chatted an excuse as a message that his boss would hear tomorrow morning. Hopefully the man didn't fire him, but a suddenly out-of-town trip to see his dying grandmother was probably a good enough reason to miss – besides, Jamie could use the extra hours he would be giving up.

Two days would at least give him enough time to think over his latest run-in with Eraserhead and the words that were now stuck running through his head.

 _You're a horrible villain._

 _Baby, what are you doing playing villain?_

 _Such a villainous quirk… Who would ever make you a hero?_

Ah, well… He was doing this for more reasons than just 'playing villain.' Besides, if he had to be a villain, the least he could do was have a little fun with it.


	3. Chapter 3

So, a few quick things to run over! First, for anyone curious, the song Mic was forcing everyone to sing in the first chapter was supposed to be Toxic by Britney Spears - you can thank corndog-patrol for that one.

Two, a comment by Lucarn over on AO3 for this story is the sole reason for the first scene in this chapter. They brought up some good observations about Mic and how he acts in this AU versus how Aizawa reacts to him. Overall, I had far too much fun.

Three, there's fanart _specifically_ made for this story and not the other way around! Corndog-patrol drew a beautiful scene from chapter one where Present Mic is first introduced - I almost screamed, to be honest. Go check it out and give it some love - corndog-patrol tumblr com/post/181753407328

Remember to check me out at ibelieveinahappilyeverafter on tumblr to check out my other stuff or simply show me some support.

Enjoy!

* * *

"It doesn't make sense." The resonating sound of typing keys paused to make way for utter silence for a moment before they continued slower, letting Shota know that he was being listened to. "That villain I was telling you about? He doesn't make sense."

"The loud one with the leather fetish who you seem to have a thing for?" Leave it to the 18+ hero herself to say a sentence like _that_ one, Shota mused.

"Besides the last part of that sentence, yes." Idly spinning his pen, Shota stared down at the essay that was more red ink than black, at this point. He really did need to have a discussion with some of his students about the importance of hero ethics. "He acts like a weak villain who's not a threat."

"Acts?" Kayama Nemuri perked up at the promise of something interesting to gossip about like the hellhound she was, rolling her chair closer to Shota. "What do you mean he _acts_ like a weak villain?"

"Every time I've run up against him before the last time we met he's either defeated after a few punches or he manages to get himself caught in his own traps." At the smothered laugh, Shota rolled his eyes, hiding his own amusement. "He's persistent."

"That's one word for it. You said it was different last time? What happened? That was the same night you arrested part of the Drake Gang, right?"

"A few of the lower ranked ones," Shota nodded, writing a note to see him after class on the essay he was grading. "We have a few promising leads now, however."

"You're so mean to your students," Nemuri muttered as she saw the final grade. "It'd be kinder to expel him, at this point."

"He has promise," Shota shrugged. "Barely. Oh, and half of those that were arrested were already knocked out when I got there."

"What? How- Who?" Ah, that got her attention. Taking a long moment to straighten his stack of work that was already graded, Shota prevented the grin that wanted to form at hearing the loud whine. " _Sho_ ta."

"Present Mic." Seeing the surprised look out of the corner of his eye, Shota nodded. "There were seven total members and they were decent fighters. A few of them seem to have been a part of the gang since it first started up. Five of them were already unconscious when I arrived. He didn't even look _tired_."

"A set up to get in an with the police?" That had been his thinking, at first, but a set up wouldn't involve one of the gang members looking like he had his face smashed against the ground a half dozen times.

"Too thorough." Shota sighed, pulling out the next essay. At least this one wouldn't have as many mistakes - hopefully. "He's not a part of any of their circles. The worst I've caught him at is setting fire to the contracts and receipts of a thrift store because the owner overcharged people and was unfair."

"Sounds more like a vigilante than a villain," Nemuri said quietly, voicing Shota's own thoughts. "Are you sure-"

"He called himself 'the Voice Villain' the first time I arrested him. He had also been forcing the entire bar to sing along to some American song."

"Absolutely heinous," Nemuri deadpanned, kicking out at Shota's chair to send him rolling a few inches away. "So he kicked their asses. So what? That doesn't mean he's _that_ strong."

"There was a difference." Shota placed his pen down, leaning back in his seat to stare up at the ceiling, thoughts focused on that last fight. "When we fought before he's always come across as clumsy without any type of fighting experience. This time was different."

"How different?" Well, for starters, Shota still had a few bruises from some of the kicks and punches Present Mic had thrown out. "That's your reluctantly impressed grimace, you know."

"He fought like he knew what he was doing, this time. As soon as the seven gang members were unconscious, we started fighting, and he was a lot faster and stronger than he had been before. He was also two or three steps ahead of me the whole time. He was analyzing my moves and _predicting_ where I would attack next."

"Huh. That is interesting." Nemuri leaned back, rolling across the floor with the motion as she hummed. "So, then, you're upset your little boy toy can fight back? You don't seem all that upset. Ooh, _Shota_ , why didn't you tell me you liked a fight?"

As soon as she rolled back towards him, Shota was kicking her chair away as far as he could with as little effort as possible. "Shut up," he muttered, giving her a glare. "It doesn't make sense. He didn't fight like he was trained, but he had experience, and he had the brains to predict my movements and react accordingly - even though he's slower. Why would he put on this whole show of pretending he's some incompetent villain?"

"Hm. You said he knew your hero name when you first met, right? Maybe it's some ploy to get to you? That would explain all the flirting."

"I thought you said the flirting was because he wanted to fuck me," Shota shot back as the door to the teacher's lounge of U. A. opened, Shota trying to keep his face blank he looked to see Sekijiro standing there with a cup of what was no doubt cold coffee.

"Hey, Vlad King," Nemuri chirped, sounding horribly cheerful. "I was just telling our dear Eraserhead-"

"I don't need to know." The door closed quietly, but firmly, Sekijiro no doubt going back to hide in his classroom. Shota almost wished he could do the same.

"Look what you did," Nemuri scolded before cackling as Shota threw a pen at her. "Alright, alright, so do _you_ think he's in some plan to take Eraserhead down, then?"

"No." Shota had done some poking around at the police station and while they had never bothered to find out Present Mic's real name since he was, in their words, 'not enough of a threat to warrant the energy,' he had found out a few things. "Most of what he does is either to cause enough trouble to be annoying or because he was helping someone. The Drake Gang members he defeated apparently liked to abuse and threaten teenagers until they agreed to join."

"Like I said, Shota, he sounds like a vigilante. Maybe he's one of those who thinks heroes aren't all they're cracked up to be, but he still wants to help."

"Maybe," Shota finally conceded, letting Nemuri roll back in close to him. "He's interesting, though." He also seemed fixated on Shota, which was something he'd have to deal with, eventually.

"Let me know whenever you're ready for the talk on safe sex-" This time, Shota kicked her chair hard enough to topple it over.

::

Over the weeks that Shota fought against Present Mic, he noticed quite a few things about the man who claimed to be a villain. The most annoying trait seemed to be his prosperity for talking in English. The little phrases he threw out were never too troublesome, but the pet names were starting to get on his nerves.

"Come on, _baby_ , you know I'm just going to come straight back to you." The 'baby' and 'darling' and ' _sweetheart_ ' that were always said in English had Shota contemplating gagging the man, but after dealing with Nemuri for so long, he feared that would only encourage the man further seeing how similar he was to Nemuri some days.

"I doubt there's anything straight about you." Shota also, regrettably, had the tendency to mutter little comments that Present Mic always seemed to hear. It was hardly his fault when he worked at a _high school_ for a career and had Kayama Nemuri as a friend.

"You would be correct!" The man's voice was always so cheerful considering Shota usually dealt with him around four and five in the morning. "How about you, _darling_? How straight are you?"

After that encounter, Shota had taken to always making sure he had a pair of handcuffs on him. Tying him up with the scarf only seemed to encourage him. Present Mic finding out that Shota wasn't exactly straight himself had encouraged him enough already.

It wasn't until almost three months into Present Mic's archenemy game that Shota discovered his quirk, though, and he hadn't been lying about being the 'Voice Villain.'

"Oi, oi, didn't your mothers ever teach you to play nice with others!" Mic's voice had been loud enough to echo out into the street when Shota had arrived at a bar that had been held together by nothing except prayer and luck. He had been responding to a call about a group of people using their quirks at the bar, but he hadn't expected to run into Mic, of all villains.

Lingering by the door, he had seen that Mic had been pinned against the wall by four villains with some powerful quirks, two people passed out on the floor and everyone else gone or cowering in a corner.

"C'mon, man, don't be a hero!"

"Thought you were some villain or something, Present Mic. You could join us, you know. Make an even bigger splash than before."

At the offer from the one who looked to be in charge, Shota clutched at his capture weapon and felt a pang of _something_ before Mic was laughing and shaking his head.

"And what? Beat up innocent people just to make a point? I think I'm fine with where I'm at, thanks." Mic sucked in a large breath of air as the four charged at him at once. Shota swore and had started to activate his quirk, but he didn't need to. "Now pl _ay_ _ **nice!**_ "

The last word was _screamed_ out, Shota throwing his hands over his ears on instinct as he watched all four men collapse to the ground, mouths open in what could only be a scream as they clutched and scratched at their heads while pieces of ceiling fell down around them.

At least Shota knew what the speaker around Mic's neck was for. It had to have been directing the soundwaves into something more pinpoint accurate, otherwise he had no doubt he'd be on the ground as well. While the speaker at least made sense, now, that still didn't explain his poor taste in leather or the mistake on his face that was supposed to be facial hair.

Seeing one man passed out and blood beginning to drip from the ears of all of them, Shota looked to Mic and activated his quirk. The sound cut off quick enough that there was a ringing in his ears as he lowered his hands, but he made sure to keep his gaze on Mic as he let himself take in the damage done to the bar that he could see. He'd let the police handle that it, he figured.

Focusing back on Mic, he frowned at seeing the man had a hand to his throat and looked… panicked. Ah, of course he'd be panicked. He probably hadn't seen or heard Shota come in and Shota had never had to use Erasure on him before. It didn't take long for Mic to look around before seeing him, shoulders dropping and tension draining out of him as Shota let go of his quirk.

"And how are you doing this lovely evening, _hero_?" Mm. Maybe he should have kept Erasure up for a bit longer.

"I was doing fine until I had to see your face."

"As always, Eraser, your words cut deeply."

The things he learned about Present Mic hadn't stopped there, either. Since the man had never been in jail for longer than a week or so at a time, he ended up running into him more than he did any other gang or villain he had to face.

"You didn't have to _shatter_ them." Mic was whining and grumbling and complaining like a toddler who hadn't gotten his way, shuffling along with Shota towards the police station.

"That's what happens when you start a fight at a club and punch the DJ in the face," Shota replied easily, narrowing his eyes when Mic stumbled beside him. While the man was often clumsy, or pretended to be, he never really stumbled over his own feet when they were walking.

"He deserved it! Did you hear the music he was playing? He wasn't even matching the tempo of the songs when they changed! It was terrible, Eraser!" As he talked, Mic stumbled two more times and almost fell flat on the ground when Shota stopped them both. "What? What's happening? Are we about to die?"

"You keep stumbling. Why? You're not bleeding that badly. Do you have a concussion?" The man's pupils _were_ a little blown now that he was looking. "What's today's date?" Shota was given a very unimpressed look before Mic rambled off the date, his 'name,' the current government leaders, and the news headlines of the last three days as well as the current top ten heroes. Shot could barely remember who the number three hero was, so he just nodded along. "You're still stumbling."

"Yeah, well, that's what happens when you punch someone _in the face_." Mic looked betrayed and Shota only shrugged. Mic had been annoying, and it had been a fight. He just felt proud that he had managed to destroy those hideous orange sunglasses. Sunglasses. Glasses. "Really, Eraser, you're starting to make me think-"

"Were those prescription?" Shota knew the answer when Mic tensed up and looked away for the briefest of seconds before looking back with a wide smile. Shota didn't let him speak. "How bad is your vision?"

"Ah, well, does anybody have perfect vision, these days? It's fine, really, I'm just a little nearsighted." A little. That might have been believable if the man hadn't stumbled so many times. "Aw, are you feeling guilty, hero?"

"No." A little, but not much, considering how annoying the man could be. The pride of destroying those monsters had vanished, though. "Why don't you just use regular glasses?" The sunglasses were just… ugly.

"I _do_ have a look to maintain, you know!" Mic complained as they started walking again, Shota a little more careful in where he pushed the man to walk. It was a minute or so of blissful silence before he heard Mic _mumble_. "I… also have problems with light sensitivity."

"Mm." That at least made Shota hate the glasses less - although not by much. "Enough to wear them at night?"

"I get headaches from light sources if they're too bright," Mic said, still quieter than usual - at least, quiet for him. "I can wear hats, but they're not as effective."

Shoat hummed, looking over, "You have spares?"

"Oh, um, yes." Good. That meant Shota didn't have to worry about guiltily buying a new pair or something else equally ridiculous. "Aw, are you worried about me, Eraser?"

"Would you like me to explain in detail how the DJ managed to kick you-"

"Okay, okay, I'm shutting up!" The silence only lasted for a few seconds, but at least the idiot was smiling again.

Hours later, when Shota was comfortably tucked away in his bed under half a dozen blankets and unable to fall asleep, he knew something was wrong when he couldn't get Present Mic's bright, sunshine smile out of his mind.


	4. Chapter 4

Hm. So. It appears I've accidentally dropped some plot into what was supposed to be a silly little slow burn story. This is where we start to really deviate from what corndog-patrol's AU has already shown, but hopefully you guys enjoy it and I can find out where to go from here because the last scene here was certainly a surprise!

Remember to check out my tumblr at ibelieveinahappilyeverafter to read my other stories, keep an eye on updates, or even just support me and my writing - sugary sweets don't buy themselves!

Enjoy!

* * *

"Do you think Eraserhead is just a tsundere?" The simultaneous realization and question came to Hizashi in a fit of brilliance as he laid on his apartment floor and thought about his last few fights with the hero on his mind. "I mean, his smiles kind of make me think he's about to kill me, and all, but he fits the personality type, don't you think? He doesn't care what anyone thinks, but then he worries when he breaks my glasses and jokes around during fights, sometimes."

Hizashi had known from the start that Eraserhead hadn't had the best of public images - if any public image at all. He had known because he had known Eraserhead before he had set about becoming a villain. Aizawa was an underground hero, yes, but he was still a _hero_. The world always had its eyes trained on heroes - hidden or not.

"Maybe he really does like me back and he's just playing it cool until the right time. But then when would the right time be? I mean, it's not like anyone would _know_ if he started dating a villain, right? Barely anyone knows about him besides people like me!"

That, at least, was the utter truth. Eraserhead was a name known only to those who lived in rough areas like where Hizashi did, and it didn't matter if the person was villain, thug, or civilian. When forced to live in the shadows and always watch your back, it was hard to _not_ know about the ones who did _good_.

The area Hizashi lived in was utter shit with old buildings, poor funding, and a police station that didn't care about any of them unless they had to please some higher up. The news always started with the latest tragedy that happened overnight and ended with a list of those missing. It was depressing and once someone lived in these types of areas it was near impossible to get out.

Then the news had one day started with a story about how two women had been saved by an unknown hero who dressed in black clothing and used some kind of scarf as a weapon while hiding behind yellow goggles.

"'S not fair that no one knows about the _good_ he does. I get that he's underground, but that doesn't mean I can't help give him a good image! If that takes three different fan accounts, making my own hero merch, and making stupid online videos, then so be it!" A lot of what he did was just to give him a distraction when his thoughts became too loud for even him, but Hizashi liked to think that his constant social media presence screaming about the good of pro hero Eraserhead was at least doing some good.

"Hey, I didn't start all this villain stuff just to meet Eraserhead, you know. I did it for more reasons than that." He had been waiting for some uncaring, high-on-life pro hero to show up that night of his debut so he could make a point, but instead of anyone he had expected, he had been captured in a heartbeat by a scowling man who had made sure all civilians were safely out of the way before giving 'Present Mic' any attention. "I can still multitask, though, don't you think?"

Tilting his head back to face the one he had been talking to, Hizashi frowned as a small, white paw landed on his forehead, a loud meow echoing around his dingy apartment. There was a moment of silence, and then Hizashi felt the hint of claws against his skin.

"If you claw me, then it's dry food only for the next week, Snowball, and you know I'll keep my promise." The claws receded and Hizashi gave a light grunt as his cat, far too large for having been such a tiny, half-drowned kitten a few months ago, jumped onto his chest and settled down. "Thank you for your wise words." The meow Snowball gave sounded smug. Hizashi both hated and loved it.

"Maybe I'm thinking about this too deeply… Do you think I'm focusing _too_ much on Eraserhead?" It had been a couple months now, after all, and Hizashi had yet to see another pro hero in his area - underground or otherwise. As wonderful as Aizawa was and as much as Hizashi wanted a date with the man, he had to remember his goal. He had to prove just how broken this system of heroes and villains was.

A buzz from his phone had him startling out of his thoughts, Hizashi digging it out before seeing that it was an update on the underground Eraserhead forums he had joined. After a moment of debate, he unlocked his screen and tried not to grin.

It wouldn't hurt to take a bit longer of a break, and, considering he had nothing pressing to do, Hizashi supposed he could stand to think about Aizawa for just a bit longer.

::

"Welcome to Lovely Coffee- Oh, wow, you look awful." Hizashi had seen Aizawa dozens of times since that first day he had wandered into the shop he worked in, but he hadn't ever seen him look _this_ bad. The man always looked a few moments away from falling asleep, but right now he looked like he was on the verge of total collapse.

"Aren't you supposed to be nicer to your customers?" Yes, but what they had was _special_. Of course, Hizashi couldn't say that without being found out as Present Mic and, not only would that get him fired, but that would mean he could never hide from Aizawa again. Mostly, though, he just needed to make his rent, this time. "I'll have my usual."

"I think I'm legally obligated to stop you from having so many espresso shots. You look like you died and then someone with a Reanimation quirk brought you back to life." There was a half moment where Hizashi saw Aizawa almost smile before he was glaring at him. Thankfully, Hizashi was near immune to those glares after so much exposure. "Will you at least please order something to eat with your coffee order this time?"

"No. I don't like eating in the mornings," Aizawa grumbled, words quieter than they normally were. The man was a pretty quiet person, of course, but this was _too_ quiet.

"You used to always order those cute cat muffins we made here before we stopped making them," Hizashi complained, starting on the coffee anyways as Aizawa dug his money out.

"Yes. Then you stopped making them." Yeah, because the boss and owner of the store was an utter _cheapskate_. "I'll be fine."

"No offense, but you really don't look like you'll be fine." Hizashi added only one espresso shot this time, knowing it would be enough to get the man through until lunch and then maybe, hopefully, he would collapse somewhere and get some sleep. "Did you take on too much work or something?"

"You're nosy." Ah, his dear Eraserhead was blunt as always. Hizashi supposed it probably did look strange in how curious he was. "And no. It's just been noisy outside my apartment." Aizawa must have sensed he was ready to start up a new line of questioning because he snorted as he took his coffee. "Construction work. They'll be done by next week."

"Oh, well, I was _going_ to offer my help, but I can't really do much about that." He couldn't, at least. Present Mic, on the other hand… "Are you sure you don't want a blueberry muffin or anything? They're my favorite, personally, but the apple cinnamon is pretty good- Oh! The banana scone is _great_ with black coffee-"

"You talk a lot." Once again, blunt as always. At least the words were familiar ones in his life. "Thanks for the coffee."

"Oh- Yeah! Of course!" Hizashi did his best to not swoon, but that was the first time Aizawa had ever actually _thanked_ him like that. He was absolutely in love.

Hopefully Aizawa would be, too, once Present Mic showed him just what he could do and, thankfully, that turned out to be a lot.

It had taken a night of careful following – _not_ stalking - to figure out where Aizawa lived, of course, but it had taken no time at all for Hizashi to steal all the keys to the construction vehicles and hold them hostage from the workers. Half of them had seemed to want to beat the shit out of him, but Hizashi was amused by the older ones who just took an early lunch.

There were spare keys and other types of equipment to deal with, of course, and running anytime the police were brought in, but Hizashi prevailed in the end. Well, really he supposed he ended up delaying progress so much that management agreed to stop in the late evening and pick back up in the morning. The workers looked pleased enough to hear that they would no longer be working nights, though, and Aizawa wouldn't have to deal with loud noises anymore, so Hizashi called it a success.

His attempt to bring back his coffee shop's cat muffins was also a success - in a way. Present Mic had threatened his boss, which had felt _wonderful_ , but Hizashi himself was the one who had to show up an hour or two early each shift to now actually _make_ the muffins. At least they sold well to people besides just Aizawa, he mused.

It had all worked out wonderfully well and Hizashi was sure he had gotten away with it all until he found himself hanging upside down from where he was tied up with Aizawa's capture scarf and dangling from a lamppost.

"Eraser! I haven't seen you in ages," Hizashi greeted cheerfully, trying not to let himself get motion sickness as he swung back and forth. "I've missed you."

"Stop it." Before he could speak again, Aizawa was talking over him. "Why did you stop the construction?"

"C'mon, now, Eraser, you know as my greatest enemy you have to be at the top of your game to defeat me!" Alright, Hizashi may have put a bit too much force and cheer in his words as he swayed in the hold, entire world moving around him. He was finding that he didn't like being upside down. "Could you at least put me on the ground, please?"

"No. Did you follow me home? Don't answer. Of course you did. You could have cost a lot of people their jobs, you know."

"And I should care? I'm a _villain_ , you know." There was no need for Aizawa to know that Hizashi _had_ worried about that and had upped his presence at the construction site so management would have no excuse to blame the workers for the delays. "Besides, the sounds annoyed me whenever I wanted a nightly stroll."

"You threatened a coffee shop." Yes, well, he supposed at the core of it all, he did threaten a coffee shop. Before he could defend himself, he squealed as he fell a few inches in the air, Aizawa stopping his descent just before his head hit the ground.

"Was that necessary?!" Hizashi winced as he could hear his quirk at the edges of his words. He quickly forced it down, trying to keep his words even. "And I just had a friendly chat with them!"

"No more friendly chats. The workers there actually make decent coffee and it's on my way to my other job." Aizawa sounded uncaring, but Hizashi _knew_ that he was complimenting his coffee skills. His heart could tell.

Besides, it was all worth it where Aizawa was seeming a lot more perked up and well rested - or at least, as close to it as he could get. His eyes were still bloodshot and there were still bags under his eyes, but he looked better by leaps and bounds since the first time Hizashi had noticed. He supposed the constant exhaustion was explained by the reveal of his other job, Hizashi mused.

"Tell you what, _hero_ ," Hizashi cooed out the last word in English, grinning at the glare he was given in return. "I'll make you a deal."

"You've been trying to capture me for months and I've punched you more times than you could probably count," Aizawa grumbled, voice irritated. Hizashi let the silence sit, trying not to grin when the man sighed. "What deal?"

"I won't do any villainy for the next week in exchange for a kiss from you," Hizashi said simply, almost laughing as he saw _shock_ on the other's face. He had seen Aizawa surprised, of course, but he had never seen him _shocked_. "What do you say, _hero_?"

His answer came in the form of a sudden loss of gravity, Hizashi shrieking as he hit the ground and landed on his back, groaning as the world settled down around him and Aizawa walked up to him without quite making eye contact, "As if I would ever kiss you."

Hizashi had been right. Aizawa _was_ a tsundere. Cracking his eyes open, Hizashi felt his pain lessen when he saw the edges of what could have maybe been a _smile_ on Aizawa's face. It disappeared, of course, but it had still been nice to see.

Aizawa shook his head with a heavy sigh before speaking, "And what villainy? You aren't even a real villain."

"What? Yes I am! I pull off heists and crimes all the time!" Just because he didn't recklessly attack people didn't mean he wasn't a villain.

"Oi, oi, do you even know how to get labelled as a villain?" Aizawa knelt beside him, not worried about Hizashi fighting back considering he was still wrapped up in the capture scarf. He couldn't even wiggle. "A villain is labelled after repeated use of their quirk in public spaces for nefarious purposes."

"I do nefarious things in public spaces," Hizashi defended as quick as he could, knowing it was a losing battle as all the others had been.

"You don't use your quirk," Aizawa said simply. Hizashi… Well. Aizawa had a point. He _didn't_ use his quirk, at least, not in his villain work. He used it in self-defense when he needed too, but he _couldn't_ just go around using his quirk all the time. It was dangerous.

"Who says I need to use my quirk to cause trouble?" Hizashi shot back. While Eraserhead may have been the only hero he liked and Aizawa was a decent person, he didn't get to sit there and lecture Hizashi like he was some misbehaving kid. "I can be just as dangerous without it."

"Dangerous?" Aizawa raised an eyebrow, looking _amused_. "You're just loud." No, he wasn't. "It's noisy, but it's not that bad." Liar. Hizashi knew what his quirk could do. It was dangerous. It was _dangerous_. It might as well have been a villain's quirk. "C'mon. Police station."

"I didn't even do anything tonight!" Hizashi whined, not fighting as he was pulled to his feet and properly cuffed.

"Disrupting construction work and threatening the owners of stores _is_ a crime, you know, and those two you haven't been charged for, yet."

"Didn't even get my kiss," Hizashi grumbled to himself, not fighting too much as he was dragged away. As nice as it was of Aizawa to try and 'save' him, there was little point in it.

Hm. Hizashi would have to prove just how pointless it was and show Eraserhead just how much of a threat Present Mic could be. First, though, he needed to remember to call his boss and let him know he'd be running late for work.

Being a villain was exhausting, he was finding.

::

"So, I hear you're the new villain stirring up trouble around here!" Startling at the hand that touched his shoulder, Hizashi carefully glanced to his left to see a man who looked entirely unassuming and had a polite, neutral smile that would be well suited to someone in business marketing.

"Nice to see my name is getting out there!" Spinning around in his chair, Hizashi put on a dazzling smile as he took a quick second to scan the room. The club he was in that night was a busy one and so the music was covering up their voices nicely, drowning them out to anyone who would be trying to listen. The path to the door was obscured by a crowd of moving and dancing bodies and at least three people were casting glances over at them. All of them looked like they could fight. "Oi, oi, if you know I'm a villain, shouldn't you be running away?"

"On the contrary. You see, I'm someone who likes to help aspiring people such as yourself reach their lofty goals." The man's voice was average. Everything about him was average and it was so _wrong_. This man was dangerous, and that much Hizashi knew for certain. "Tell me, Present Mic, what are you in the business for?"

"I need a reason to have a little fun?" Hizashi laughed loud and bright, trying to keep his posture loose and relaxed even as he shifted his weight around so he could run if he needed to. "I got bored."

"No one becomes a villain by just being bored, Present Mic." This one was too smart. He didn't like it. "I have an offer for someone with a quirk like yours."

"You need someone to do some screaming?" Hizashi said, tilting his head in feigned cluelessness as he tried to calm his racing heart. Not many knew what his quirk was - and for good reason. "I'm pretty sure there's a lot of people out there who can scream."

"Not like you can. Your quirk would be… advantageous to those I work with if you'd be willing to hear more." Ah… A villain's quirk, huh?

"And what makes you think I want anything to do with those you work with?" Hizashi hid his fear as he had always done, putting on a pout and pitching his voice into something whiny and childish. He had a feeling his masks didn't work in front of this man.

"Let's just call it… belief." The words were near lost in the thrumming of laughter and singing and screaming in the air, the bass pumping out a rhythm that Hizashi mirrored in the tapping of his fingers. "We'd be willing to help you in return, of course."

"Help, huh? Who says I need any help?" Before he could move away, a business card with something attached to it was slipped inside his jacket pocket.

"Well, we could all use a little help. How would you like to make that quirk of yours stronger?" Stronger? Like _hell_ he wanted that! His quirk was already strong enough to bring down _buildings_ if he wasn't careful.

"Look-" A wild scream from behind him had him turning around quickly, Hizashi sighing in relief when he saw it was just someone who couldn't hold their drink and had fallen to the floor. Looking back to the man, Hizashi blinked as he saw he and the people who had been watching them were gone.

"Help, huh?" Turning back around in his chair, Hizashi carefully pulled out the card with the napkin his drink had been resting on, wary of touching something that could be laced with who _knew_ what.

It took a few moments, but he managed to see that it looked like a plain old business card that was white enough to shine in the dim lights of the club. On one side was a number and on the other was a single word, along with what looked like a sealed piece of candy at first glance.

Looking the word over, Hizashi frowned as he shoved the card back into his pocket. A stronger quirk…

"Trigger, huh?" He had a bad feeling about that.


	5. Chapter 5

Ha, well, this chapter got away from me! I had a lot of fun with it, though, so hopefully you all will, too! The first scene is directly inspired by one of the comics that corndog-patrol did for this AU that can be found here: corndog-patrol tumblr com/post/180967517776. For those who are curious immediately, the song is _I Can't Decide_ by the Scissor Sisters. It's a very Villain!Mic song.

Edit - The previous chapters have been edited to where Shota refers to Kayama Nemuri as Nemuri instead of Kayama. This change was due to the fact that I thought Kayama _was_ her first name. Wiki did me wrong, y'all.

Remember you can check out my tumblr blog over at ibelieveinahappilyeverafter where I'm always writing, editing, and getting up to stupid shenanigans!

Enjoy!

* * *

There were times where every pro hero made mistakes in their career, whether the ensuing results were small or not. Shota remembered the lessons his teachers had given his class when he had attended U.A., and some of them had been grim. There was no saving everyone, there would be battles where one would never be able to learn from the mistakes made, and there would be some mistakes that would be made that could have been preventable.

Shota had become too comfortable and secure in his routine. He knew he had that drawback - as did many other heroes - but he hadn't expected it to end with him tied to a chair. A little wiggling showed that he wouldn't be escaping the ropes unless he managed to break the chair or dislocate a shoulder and, considering he didn't see his capture weapon anywhere, he was hesitant to put himself in a position where he would only be fighting with one hand.

"Well, well… Looks like the infamous Eraserhead can be caught after all." Glaring up at the man in front of him, Shota narrowed his eyes when he was only met with laughter. "Come on, Eraser, let me have my fun! I've been at this for _so long_ now."

"You know kidnapping a pro hero is an _actual_ act of villainy, don't you?" Shota glared at where Present Mic was staring at him with a wide grin and crossed arms. For as much annoyance as he felt, he couldn't really bring himself to feel _worried_.

"Of course I do! How many times do we have to go over the fact that I, Present Mic, being of sound mind-" Present Mic stumbled over the words when Shota gave a quiet laugh. "Oi! Don't be mean!"

"Alright. You've captured me. Now what?" There was a stretched silence, Shota not surprised when Mic finally broke his gaze. If there was one thing he had learned after all these months, it was that Present Mic couldn't harm a soul to save his life. He really was such a terrible villain. "What? No plan?"

" _We_ ll," Mic said, drawing the word out before a sharp grin was back. "I could always sing to you, if you want."

"I don't." Shota glanced around the room they were in, wrinkling his nose at seeing it was a drafty, old room that looked to be a part of a closed or condemned building. That just meant he could be _anywhere_ along his usual patrol route, though.

"Too bad." That was all it took for Mic, a man born without any sense of shame, to begin singing a song in English that had Shota rolling his eyes. Present Mic, it seemed, was fond of anything in English, but he seemed to speak the language well enough. As he sang, Shota noticed he even had a tinge of an American accent and he wondered if that was a side effect of his quirk or if he had spent time in America. Could he mimic sounds and other voices? That seemed like it would be useful for underground work.

" _I'm not a gangster tonight_." The touch of a hand on his shoulder slightly startled Shota, but not enough for him to show it as Mic pranced around him like he was having the time of his life. Shota really shouldn't be surprised. Present Mic's 'debut' involved forcing people to sing karaoke. " _Don't wanna be a bad guy!_ "

Maybe if Shota avoided eye contact and did his best to pretend, he wasn't there it would end sooner. He knew enough English to get along, but not enough that he couldn't tune it out to a background murmur if he wanted – or needed, in this case.

" _I'm just a loner, baby._ " The hand was on his other shoulder this time and Shota _felt_ how close Mic was. He made sure to not give him the attention he apparently needed to survive. " _And now you've gotten in my way_!"

An arm was around his shoulder, a hand on his chest, and Shota kept his head turned and his gaze as far to the right as possible. He was starting to regret putting up with this man's behavior when it seemed to have only encouraged him.

" _I can't decide whether you should live or die!_ " The man was 'dancing' around the room and Shota took the chance to at least roll his eyes. One of them was having fun, it seemed. With the distance, though, it did give Shota the chance to notice that Mic wasn't wearing his typical leather jacket or the speaker system around his neck and was instead in just a plain white shirt. Shota wasn't sure if that was a good sign or a bad one. " _Oh, you'll probably go to heaven, please don't hang your head and cry._ "

Huh. Listening to the lyrics, this seemed like a very dark song for someone like Present Mic. Shota wasn't worried until a heavy leather boot landed between his legs and pressed against the chair he was in, Mic's arm thrown over his eyes dramatically, " _No wonder my heart feels dead inside_!"

A sudden push and Shota felt himself fall towards the ground back first. " _It's cold and hard and petrified_!" Grunting at the jarring fall, Shota looked up to see that Mic's boot was still on the same part of the chair and pinning him down, Mic's smile wide and wicked as he leaned over and pushed up his glasses to give a wink of green eyes that were so bright they almost glowed, " _Lock the doors and close the blinds,_ _we're goin' for a ride!_ "

For a single moment, Shota could only feel shock as he stared up at Mic before the man was pushing off and dramatically dancing around the room as he sang the rest of the song. Shota stayed on the ground and his shock quickly turned to embarrassed anger because why the _fuck_ had _Present Mic_ looked, to borrow Nemuri's words, _fuckable_.

Right. Shota could have a crisis over this, later. The one thing Mic had neglected to do, it seemed, was check his pockets, and, luckily for him, Shota's knife was now right near his fingertips.

It took a little under seven minutes for Shota to break his bonds, get Mic to stop his ridiculous singing, and pin the man enough that he could start to handcuff him. He may have put a bit too much force behind a few of his punches, but that's what the man deserved for frustrating him so badly. Shoat hated that he could already imagine Nemuri's comments when she found out about this little debacle.

"I wasn't _really_ going to _kill_ you!" Mic whined, staying still as Shota fit the handcuffs around his wrists. Shota was only a touch amused that the man always gave in and complacently let himself be cuffed once he was pinned and beaten.

"Tell that to the cops, you melodramatic Disney villain." That amusement was overwhelmingly drowned out by annoyance and anger because Shota was still having an inner crisis. For as much as he insisted the other man wasn't a villain, he _was_ a criminal at the very least. Shota decided that he wasn't even going to let his thoughts continue in that direction. It was too embarrassing.

"Boo." Mic puffed his cheeks out and looked like the social mess he was again. Maybe Shota had been having Stockholm Syndrome symptoms because there was no other way that he had suddenly found Present Mic attractive when Shota had been tied up and unable to move with the man smugly standing over him.

 _Fuck_. Nemuri was going to tease him for _years_ if she ever found out about this. Right. He could never drink around her again.

"Oh, Eraser, your scarf is over in the other room." Pausing, Shota blinked down at Mic, who gave him a little smile. "I didn't want to lose it. Steel wire alloy woven with carbon nanofibers, right? Sounds expensive."

"How did you know that?" _This_ was what always threw Shota for a loop. The man had just pranced around the room and sang a song after capturing him like this was all a game, and now here he was with a look in his eyes that was far too clever for someone who acted like an idiot.

"It wasn't that hard to guess," Mic grumbled, _rolling his eyes_ as he shuffled towards the other room, not even trying to make a break for it. "It was pretty easy to be sure, though, when your scarf didn't work quite right around that one gang member with the fire quirk we fought. Those are the only kinds of materials that would be affected by heat like that - not to mention carbon nanofibers would be the only thing that would be able to handle the steel alloy without the scarf itself being ripped to shreds – especially considering what you put it through."

Shota stared at Mic for a long moment, finally sighing as he rubbed at his eyes. His voice was soft, though, when he finally spoke, "Why are you doing all of this? You're obviously not an idiot."

"No, I'm not." Startled at that, he looked to where Mic was nudging his leather jacket aside with his foot, Shota's capture weapon wrapped up neatly in the corner of the room. A swift kick and it was sliding over to stop in front of Shota's feet. "Hey, can you pick up my jacket for me?"

"You can't do it yourself." Grinning at the glare he was given, Shota made sure the familiar weight of his weapon was around his neck and shoulders before picking up the jacket, noticing the speaker nearby. "That's a directional speaker for your quirk, right? Where did you get it?"

"Hm? Oh, I designed most of it myself, but I know this guy who was able to do the actual building of it." Mic looked up from his jacket and paused at seeing Shota's expression before giving a grin that was almost teasing. "Hey, hey, enough with the pity looks, _hero_. I don't need them."

"Mm." This man was smart enough that he could have done so many things, but here he was in a horrible area playing at being villain for a reason Shota couldn't figure out. It seemed the more they talked, though, the less Mic hid behind that bright, goofy behavior - although he was still far too loud and cheerful.

"Right, then! I need something out of the right pocket. You can either get it yourself or you can make me get it. Depends on if you think it's a trap or a weapon, I suppose, but then again, would I really hurt you, _hero_?" It was ridiculous that the English nickname was what made Shota's mind up for him.

Shota held the jacket out, Mic pouting as he turned around and tried reaching into one of the pockets while his hands were still cuffed. It was more amusing than it probably should have been considering Mic's leather gloves weren't helping him in getting into the pockets. "I can hear your laughter, Eraser."

"You're mistaken. I don't laugh." Shota hid his smile as Mic struggled for a minute or two before finally pulling out a plastic bag that had a white business card inside. "Handing out business cards?"

"I'm not," Mic muttered, tone dark. It was a tone that made Shota straighten up at once before narrowing his eyes. "It was given to me a little over a week ago when I was at this club. The guy seemed like bad news and was talking about how people were interested in my quirk. I don't think they know much about it because they offered to make it stronger instead of just kidnapping me."

The way the words were said, simple and matter-of-fact, made Shota frown as he thought about Mic's quirk. It was a voice amplifying quirk which sounded simple enough, but remembering back to the bar… How dangerous did Present Mic think his quirk was if he fought most of the time without it? How powerful _was_ it if villains were already wanting to use it? Shota sighed, looking back to the card, "And? How'd they offer to make it stronger."

"The guy called it Trigger-" The rest of the words cut off with a yelp as Shota slammed Mic against the wall, gripping his chin and forcing the man's mouth to open as his heart near beat its way out of his chest. When he saw the tongue - pink, not black - Shota almost slumped in relief. "Oi, oi, if you wanted a kiss, then all you had to do was ask!"

"Shut up, you idiot. Trigger turns the tongue black." It was also one of the more dangerous drugs still out on the street even though Shota had spent the last few years trying to get rid of it.

Shota forced the thoughts out of his head and glared at him, knowing it was a weak glare when Mic's face softened, his voice quiet when he spoke again, "Like I said, the guy felt dangerous. I didn't touch the card and I didn't take whatever drug he attached. I don't know if it's laced or anything, but you might find a fingerprint on there if you check."

"You're a terrible villain," Shota finally said, letting go of Mic and tucking the covered card away in one of his pouches before he was bending down to grab the leather jacket and speaker system. "Come on. The police are going to want to know there's Trigger in this area."

"Not like they'll care," Mic snorted, tone bitter as he followed him. "You're the only hero that ever seems to come this far into the area, you know. The rest of them don't give a damn what happens to people here, and if you call yourself a hero we all know what a joke it is."

"Is that why you call yourself a villain and end up helping?" Shota knew pushing wasn't going to give him any answers, but he couldn't help but want to know as much as he could about this man.

"Spoilers, _baby_ ," Mic grinned, sunglasses slipping down as he gave a little wink. "I just figured a hero that's actually going to do something should get that."

"Was the kidnapping even necessary, then?" Because Shota hadn't been a fan of being tied to a chair. Waiting for Mic's laugh and flirtatious joking, Shota frowned when it didn't come. "Mic?"

"They knew my quirk and they knew where to find me to give me that card," Mic finally said, voice quiet as he glanced around the street when they stepped outside. "That means on some level they're watching me, and, well… Only a villain would kidnap a hero, right?"

As they walked to the closest precinct, Shota knew he had been given a lot to think about. Setting aside his… _feelings_ for the man, Shota could see in a purely objective sense that this man wasn't a villain.

If Present Mic were to ever become a true villain, he would be unstoppable.

::

"Maybe I should have ripped his tongue out," Shota said quietly, a warbling meow his own answer to his musings. "Then I wouldn't be hearing his voice everywhere, at least." He also wouldn't be daydreaming about that last week when Present Mic had kidnapped him and _sang_ to him. It seemed no matter how he tried to drown it out - whether with radio or television - he just kept hearing the man's voice and seeing that stupid, sunshine smile. It was a good thing Shota never fought Present Mic in the day. The sun was already bright enough, and he didn't need to put up with that _and_ Mic's smile.

It was getting bad. Nemuri had already caught on that Shota was hiding something from her and seemed to be narrowing the cause down each day. It wouldn't take long until she guessed right, and Shota would be forced to move to another country. Maybe he could have Nemuri deal with Present Mic from now on. No, that was a bad idea, Mic would just come to his apartment since he _apparently_ knew where he lived.

Maybe he should move? Hm. That seemed like a lot of effort when he was already settled in a nice little apartment that was close to his agency _and_ close to U.A. He'd move if Mic broke in. Maybe.

Hearing Mic's voice filter through his thoughts again, Shota groaned and laid down on his couch, Jelly not bothering to move from where she was on his lap. It took a long few moments to realize that the voice wasn't in his head.

"- _who just released a_ _ **killer**_ _album last month! I'd definitely recommend checking them out!_ " That was Mic's voice. No one else could put that much enthusiasm in words. Scrambling to sit up, Shota stared at his radio that he had turned on to fill up the silence. It was on a radio station that he honestly couldn't remember, but he knew he had listened to it before around his time of night and had yet to hear _that_ voice. " _Next up… Oh, man, next up these idiots had some truly horrendous music they were about to play you. Not to worry though, listeners, because Present Mic is here to set the record straight!_ "

Shota was off the couch and halfway to the door when another song started to play, his capture weapon settling around his shoulders. While it was his night off, he was sure the police wouldn't mind working with the hero who had become Present Mic's babysitter.

It took a while to find someone who was willing to talk to him about just what was going on, of course, but Shota eventually found out that this wasn't the _first_ time Mic had taken over a radio station. It wasn't even his second or third, according to the police officer he was talking to.

"And no one's reported this?" Shota had his arms crossed, the officer shaking her head with a heavy sigh.

"No, they haven't, and you know how it works. If we don't get reports, then we can't really call for a pro hero in to help."

"That's because the music he plays is actually decent!" An officer from behind the desk was shouting, the woman - Shelly? - glaring back at him. "Come on, admit it, you agree with me."

"Shouldn't you be working, Takamara! I know for a fact you have at least three case files still open!"

"Oi, you're Eraserhead, aren't you?" Hearing his hero name, Shota looked over to a set of chairs, two scantily dressed women handcuffed to them. The one who had spoken looked to be a bit older, but her grin was sharp as Nemuri's. "Present Mic's Eraserhead?"

Giving it a moment of thought, Shota finally responded, "No." This only made the woman laugh, the younger girl behind her looking between them curiously. "What of it?"

"You're looking for him, right? The radio station he's at tonight should be the one down by the bar on Block 10 in this area."

"And why would you be helping me if you know who Present Mic is? He sounds like a friend of yours."

"Oh, baby, that's why I'm helping." Definitely like Nemuri. "Want me to pull up the website on your phone? They do live broadcasts."

"No." Shota took his phone out, holding it out to the girl slightly behind her. "She can do it. I don't trust you."

"I can't believe he loves someone so nasty." While the woman complained, the younger girl carefully took his phone, looking hesitant. "It's okay, Lucy, he's nasty, but he's a good one. He's a friend of Present Mic's."

"I wouldn't say friend," Shota muttered, noticing that Lucy nodded and relaxed before tapping on his phone. The girl looked too young to be handcuffed to a chair in a police station. While her blonde hair looked dyed, the bright white fur on her rabbit mutation quirk at least looked natural. There was still baby fat on her cheeks, Shota noticed.

"You know how it is around here, pro hero," the woman said quietly, gaze going back to Lucy. "We do what we have to." A second later and they heard Mic's voice filtering out from Shota's phone.

"- _I mean, it wasn't like it was_ _ **my fault**_ _he fell out the window! Sure, okay, I punched him, but to be fair, he was playing such terrible music, listeners!_ " It was definitely Mic.

Lucy offered his phone back and Shota took it carefully before thanking her quietly and pocketing the phone, leaving it on before he was setting off. He was starting to wonder just how far Mic was taking this little pretend game of having feelings for him if even people in the police station knew about it.

Taking to the rooftops, Shota listened as Mic continued the show, opening a question and answer segment to inflate his already oversized ego. The first 'question' was someone swearing at him, Mic hanging up with an awkward laugh and quickly taking the next call.

" _What was the name of that one song you played after the last time you talked? The one with the line 'the sun never sets.'_ "

" _Oh! That was Unbreakable! It's number sixteen on the charts now and I have no doubt it'll break into the top ten, at the very least!_ " Huh. Mic seemed to honestly like music, so at least his own persona wasn't a gimmick. " _I have a CD of Utada's latest album at my own apartment, and let me tell you listeners, it's great! Now, let's keep it going with the next question!_ "

" _Hi, so, uh, my partner for this class project is working at the station you're at tonight and he still hasn't done his half of the report yet… Did you kill him? I really need a good grade in this class._ " Shota felt like turning right around and going home and retiring because was there any point in helping people like _this_?

" _Not to worry, dear listener!_ " Mic sounded like he was having a hard time controlling his laughter and Shota hated how much he liked the sound. " _The two usual controllers are safely wrapped up in the other room with no harm done. He'll be able to help no problem!_ "

" _Oh, cool. If you want to punch him, though, that's fine, too. He probably deserves it. Great songs tonight, by the way. Better than the usual trash._ "

It went like that the entire time it took Shota to get to the radio station where all of this was going on, Shota keeping a portion of his attention on the show, so he could listen for any information that might have helped him.

He didn't think there was any helpful information in knowing Mic's favorite food, color, and animal - okonomiyaki, yellow, and a tie between cockatoos and cats – but he ended up paying more attention than he should have.

When he dropped down in front of the station door - cracked open - Shota heard a viewer ask the very question he had been asking since he had first met Present Mic.

" _Present Mic, I was just wondering, why are you a villain when you seem so nice?_ " There was nothing except dead air as Shota turned his phone off and pushed his way into the building, but a second later he heard Mic's voice over speakers that seemed to be set up throughout the halls so the station always had its own music playing.

" _Ah, well… That's a bit of a tough question, listener._ " Strained didn't even begin to cover how Mic's voice sounded. " _Becoming a villain… was a bit of a wakeup call to all the pro heroes out there, I suppose._ "

A wakeup call? Shota frowned and quietly made his way through the building, sticking to the shadows as he tried to figure out what _that_ could mean. The listener seemed to have the same question, " _What do you mean?_ "

" _I mean, dear listener, that it's a wakeup call to the heroes out there that the game they play isn't the same game to others. It's a reminder that all those 'villains' they take down aren't always out to kill anyone or even_ _ **hurt**_ _anyone. They're as much victims as the civilians that get caught up in it all._ "

Mic's voice was getting more and more serious and Shota couldn't help but feel a touch satisfied that he was at least _right_ in the fact that Mic had a reason to be the villain he claimed. " _The system of pro heroes has done a lot of good for our country, but it's done just as much bad in the recent years. Sometimes the system fails, and I wanted to make people_ _ **see**_ _what a failure it was._ "

Vindication, but done in the name of proving just how bad their system was. Jeez… he was a villain in his actions, but a hero in his beliefs.

" _When… When you tell a child that they have a dangerous quirk, what happens to them? When you_ _ **force**_ _that child to never use that quirk that is called dangerous and a villain's quirk, what happens to that child?_ "

Shota stumbled in his steps as he felt a chill run through him. He knew that the system was bad - especially in places like this and in places where he himself grew up, but the way Mic had said those words left an uncomfortable feeling crawling down his spine. Maybe there was more reason than one as to why Mic never used his quirk.

Just like that, though, Present Mic was laughing and sounding like the persona he had crafted, fun and upbeat and not at all bothered by anything. " _Well, thank you listeners for sending such good requests my way and tuning in to all my ramblings! This is going to be my last song of the night, though, because it looks like my time with you all is up tonight_."

Wait, what? Why would his time be up? Looking around quickly, Shota frowned at seeing a door at the end of the hall that had the typical red 'On Air' sign above it. Before he could move towards it, there was quiet laughter that came from the speakers, and it was laughter that sounded _excited_.

" _Well? Are you coming in, Eraser?_ "


	6. Chapter 6

Hm, so... I don't know what happened, but apparently I wrote two chapters in one night because this story excites me to pieces. So, enjoy an extra chapter, I suppose! It's four in the morning here, though, so good morning, good afternoon, and good night!

Enjoy!

* * *

"Aw, come on, Eraser, the kids in the booth back there are fine! Really, one of them is in high school and the other is in college - they're probably catching up on some lost sleep!"

"I'm starting to doubt that you understand when I tell you that it's my _job_ to stop you from doing things like this." That familiar capture weapon snapped out and around his wrist and pulled him forward sharply, Hizashi skidding across the floor with a swear before he was catching himself with one boot on the station desk, wrapping the cloth around his hand a few times for a better grip, and then jerking back with as much strength as he could in quick succession.

There was a split second of surprise where Aizawa stumbled and Hizashi didn't hesitate to use the chance to grab more of the scarf and give it another jerk, forcing the man to slide forward on the tiled floor himself. As soon as he was close enough, Hizashi kicked out at the chair he had been sitting in and sent it right into an unbalanced Aizawa, letting go of the scarf at the same time to ensure the chair sent him falling to the ground.

The second he heard the crash, Hizashi let himself give a laugh. At least Hizashi wasn't the only one slightly off his game tonight. He usually tried to give Aizawa his full attention when they were fighting, but that last question he had answered on the radio had shaken him up more than he would have thought.

" _When you tell a child that they have a dangerous quirk, what happens to them?"_

"C'mon, Eraser, let the kids sleep. Besides, now they have an excuse for why their homework won't be done!" Really, Hizashi thought he was being nice and giving those kids some much needed time to sleep and relax. They obviously needed it if their song choices were as bad as he had seen.

"How often do you tie up kids and take over their equipment, then?" Aizawa, Hizashi sometimes forgot, _was_ a pro hero with many years of experience. He quickly remembered, however, when he suddenly found himself on the floor with a sore head and no idea on how he got there. "You know, you'll probably only get one night in jail, this time, seeing as no one filed a report about this."

"Then why are you here?" Hizashi groaned, pushing himself up and rubbing at the back of his head as he looked to Aizawa, the man giving a smirk as he stood up himself.

"It's my job to stop villains, remember?" Right. Villains. Because Hizashi was a villain - that was all he _could_ be.

" _When you_ _ **force**_ _that child to never use that quirk that is called dangerous and a villain's quirk…"_

"C'mon, _hero_ , can't we drop the act and you can finally admit how much you really love me?" Hizashi grinned, raising his hands peacefully at the glare he received. "The game continues, then!"

"Your game of heroes and villains?" Ah… Aizawa would have heard that, wouldn't he have? He had probably entered the building since at least the last question. "There's other ways to fight against the system, Mic."

"No, there really isn't." Hizashi kept his smile through sheer force of will, taking another few steps back. "Really, Eraser, some days I wished it was _another_ pro hero that showed up. Then again, I wouldn't have found my true love, if that were the case!"

"You're so noisy," Aizawa muttered, shooting his scarf out again. It was a warmup attack more than anything - something that Hizashi should have easily been able to dodge. He did in a way, at least, but he was pretty sure that neither of them had _planned_ for him to trip over a bunch of wires and hit the floor. "Feeling clumsy tonight, Mic?"

"I guess I'm just falling over myself for you, _darling_ ," Mic shot back, groaning a bit before he was leaping up to dodge the next attack. "Sorry, _hero_ , but I don't have the luxury of being late for work, again!"

Running to the door and slamming it shut to buy himself at least a few seconds, Hizashi was halfway down the hallway before he realized his headphones were missing. He then swore he felt his heart stop as cold air rushed past exposed ears.

" _What happens to that child?"_

Hearing the footsteps chasing after him, Hizashi yelled a few different expletives in at least three languages because now, it seemed, he was going to have to buy new noise-cancelling headphones. There was no way he could go back for the ones he had dropped.

Kicking the door open to the outside, Hizashi stumbled slightly from the momentum. Slightly was all Aizawa needed to repay him for his earlier crash to the floor, it seemed.

Hitting the ground chest first at full speed with the scarf wrapped around his leg, Hizashi took a moment to make sure he was still alive and that he hadn't busted his face or chin. He was starting to think he was lucky when he realized he couldn't hear anything. A second passed before it sunk in and _he_ _couldn't hear anything_.

Scrambling to his feet and grabbing at his ears, Hizashi felt his heart completely drop out of his chest when he realized both of his hearing aids were missing. He usually didn't have to worry where his headphones kept them in place and only activated once outside volume reached high decibels, but his headphones had fallen _off_ so now Hizashi was stuck in the middle of a fight unable to _hear_.

Hizashi didn't even get a step forward before Aizawa's capture weapon was wrapped around him and pinning his arms to his side. Hizashi quickly found breath picking up speed, as well, when he glanced up at Aizawa to see his lips were moving, but Hizashi couldn't _understand_. It had been too long since he had to rely on lip reading, and there was no way he could calm himself down, and he couldn't _hear_ , and why did Aizawa have to talk _so quietly_?

Seeing the man's hand moving towards him, Hizashi slammed his eyes shut and tried to relax as he waited for whatever punch was coming. When he felt something brush against his ear, he bit his lip as hard as he could and wondered why Aizawa had to go for the _ear_ of all places.

"Mic?" He heard that. Hizashi had heard that. Eyes shooting open, Mic looked to Aizawa to see he was lifting his other hand now and, a moment later, hearing was restored to both ears. "Better?"

"I… Yeah." Hizashi narrowed his eyes and was pleasantly surprised to see no hint of pity or disgust in Aizawa's face. The man had never seemed the type, but Hizashi had learned to expect the worst even while hoping for the best.

"You wear hearing aids." There wasn't a question, but Hizashi could hear the surprise. Remembering what Aizawa had once said about his quirk not being dangerous, Hizashi couldn't stop a tight-lipped smile.

"My quirk is more than just loud." Hizashi could see the moment realization hit. Hizashi didn't give him the gift of pretending to play dumb. "When you stop a child from using their quirk and then they're finally forced to use it, how are they expected to control it?"

"They aren't," Aizawa said quietly, complicated expression on his face. Hizashi felt the scarf around him lose tension, which, huh. He supposed he really had surprised the man for once. "Mic-"

"I told you. My quirk is dangerous." It wasn't boasting. It wasn't pity. It was just fact. "I blew my hearing out when I was in middle school and I've been wearing hearing aids ever since. That's how I know those drug dealers or whoever they were didn't know what my quirk really was. They would have tried to use it for themselves, not leave me to myself. What's the deal with that stuff, anyways?"

The scarf lost more tension as Aizawa sighed, hanging his head for a moment. "Trigger is a drug that was designed to enhance a person's quirk, but it also weakens their reasoning. It's basically a drug made to make more villains."

"Not without side effects, though," Hizashi pointed out, thinking back to when he had been slammed against the wall when he had kidnapped Aizawa. For a second, he had been so _hopeful_. Ah, there was always the future and his dreams, he supposed. "You said the tongue turns black?"

"Yeah. There's different forms of it and one or two of them are legal, but the stuff you were given looks to be even stronger than what's already out there."

"Sounds nasty." It sounded bad for the people who lived here, too. Hizashi knew what a shithole it was, but with a drug like that floating around, it would only get worse. "Are there any leads as to who that man was?"

"Even after the description you gave, we didn't find anything," Aizawa sighed, running a hand through his hair and looking irritated. While Hizashi took a moment to admire how beautiful an annoyed Eraserhead looked in the moonlight, he also tested the tightness of the scarf. It wasn't very tight anymore.

"Well, at least there's a decent hero on the case," Hizashi teased, delighting in the _look_ Aizawa gave him. "Although, I _am_ curiousabout one thing. If there are no reports or anything on me, how did you find out I was broadcasting tonight?"

"And why would I tell you that?" Aizawa met his gaze evenly, but Hizashi saw what could have almost been called a _blush_. "It's hard to ignore your loud voice when looking for something to listen to."

"Aw, _baby_ , did you listen to my show?" That was oddly reassuring, and the fact Aizawa didn't deny it just made Hizashi want to scream into his pillow in glee. Eraserhead really _was_ an amazing hero. "Well, thank you for being such a dedicated listener, but… I really _can't_ be late for work, tomorrow."

Darting forward, Hizashi saw Aizawa tense and get ready to react before stopping completely as Hizashi kissed the edge of his jaw, letting his tongue dart out just the barest amount to flick against warm skin. It was amazing when Hizashi heard a dragged-out noise from Aizawa that sounded like a swear and a squeak combined. It was officially the most beautiful sound Hizashi had ever heard.

"Goodnight, Eraser." With that, Hizashi jerked himself out of the hold of the loosened capture weapon and _sprinted_ away from Aizawa and the radio station as fast as he possibly could, throwing himself down shadowed alleyways and through broken down buildings that he had hidden in when he was younger.

It was an effort to not burst out laughing when he knew with everything in him that Eraserhead could have caught him in a second, but… he hadn't. Really, that had to mean _something_ , right? And Hizashi was finally able to kiss his true love! At least, in a way, he had. It still counted, though!

And the fact he had seen Aizawa blushing and looking caught off guard, well. It officially made the bad night into a _perfect_ one.

::

The drone of the late-night news filled his too quiet apartment, Hizashi distractedly eating a carton of leftovers and fending off Snowball as he stared at the research he had been able to gather after a long shower and computer binge. He had been bouncing ideas off Snowball for the last hour, but so far it seemed his cat had yet to develop a quirk that allowed him to talk back.

"It just doesn't add up, Snowball." Picking out a piece of chicken with his chopsticks, Hizashi held it out to the cat that he really did need to put on a diet. Snowball plucked out the chicken carefully, though, before curling up on his lap with purrs loud enough to be mistaken as a passing train. "Yeah, yeah. Really, though, why would Trigger dealers come this far?"

Hizashi had managed to create a rough timeline of the resulting Trigger outbreaks over the last five years and none of them had ever made it down this far south. There were some outlier crop ups that seemed to have been dealt with by Eraserhead a few years ago - at least, it seemed to. It was a little out of his patrol area, but Hizashi liked to think he knew the man's fighting style by now.

The problem with him seeing a Trigger dealer in his area now is that there hadn't been any outbreaks. Hizashi would have contributed that to the fact that he had given the police and heroes warning, but even he wasn't that hopeful.

"What do you think, Snowball?" Hizashi gave the cat's head a little scratch, staring at the red pins he had put in an old map. "What could they be doing here… Recruiting, maybe?"

Aizawa had said the drug was stronger than what he had seen before, though, so if someone had taken it, they would have noticed. Maybe they were just after _Hizashi_ , though. If so, that was something he didn't like the sound of too much.

"This is so stressful," Hizashi finally sighed, kicking his feet up and looking to the news to see it was reporting about an underground hero who had taken down an entire gang just last week. "Ah, Snowball, don't we have just the most amazing hero watching over us here?"

Snowball meowed loud enough to rival Hizashi and his quirk, staring up at him with sweet, baby blue eyes. Huffing after a moment, Hizashi dug out the final piece of chicken and held it out, not managing to get all that upset.

"You're lucky I felt pity for you, you know. I could have left you in that gutter and then that would have been the end of that. No cat eating me out of house and home." Snowball stared at him before nuzzling against his side. "You know me too well, Snowball."

The answering meow almost drowned out the sound of his phone ringing, but Hizashi wasn't the Voice Villain for nothing. Almost falling off the couch, Hizashi managed to snag the phone, frowning at the halfway familiar number.

"Hello?" There was a moment of silence that followed that made Hizashi frown and wonder if he had just missed the person.

" _Ah, Present Mic. It truly is a pleasure to talk to you, again. I take it you haven't had a chance to try that product I gave you?_ " The voice was already half-forgotten, but there was no mistaking that neutral politeness.

"Oi, oi, who gave you this number? Don't you know it's rude to call this late without warning!" Hizashi steeled his voice, doing his best to not let it shake. "And how do I know that 'product' of yours isn't something bad! I don't even know who you are, man."

" _Oh, you will soon enough. I do apologize for the impromptu call, but I was led to believe you kept late hours._ " He didn't like this. Hizashi didn't like this one bit. " _I have to say, it's rather impressive how you've managed to keep up with a hero such as Eraserhead_."

His cautiousness turned to rage and Hizashi very nearly said something stupid before he managed to throw his voice into something that was a mask of his villain persona, "Of course! You're talkin' to the Voice Villain, you know! I have no problem keeping up with the likes of an underground hero!"

" _That's good to hear, Present Mic_." They hadn't used his real name, yet, but was it possible they knew it anyways? They had his number, after all, but Hizashi didn't know how they could have connected the two. A quirk, maybe? There was a quirk for everything these days, it felt like. " _You should try our product soon. I think the results will be to your liking._ "

"I dunno, I'm not really one for performance enhancers, if you know what I mean." There was a polite laugh over the phone that had a few shivers slipping down his spine.

" _Well, nonetheless, we'll contact you again soon, Present Mic. We have an offer that I think you'll take a particular liking to if your agenda truly is to shake the system of heroes and villains._ "

The call disconnected with a click and Hizashi threw his phone to the other end of the couch, glaring at it with all his might. He could handle these people knowing him when he was Present Mic, but if they knew he was Yamada Hizashi, then how easy would it be for other people to know?

"Well, Snowball, it looks like this just got a lot more dangerous." Hizashi looked down to Snowball, giving a little grin when the cat hissed at the phone. "Yeah, but it makes you wonder what else they know about us."

An offer that would help shake the system of heroes and villains, huh? Well… They succeeded in getting his attention.


	7. Chapter 7

Apparently daily updates are a thing - who knew! Just a quick headcanon to throw at you all, but I briefly mention that Aizawa teachers Hero Ethics as a class besides just his homeroom, which is something I picked up from Deafmic's stories over on AO3 and Tumblr. They're really good and they're usually about EraserMic and Aizawa and Shinsou father son stuff, so give them a read if you can!

Remember to check me out on ibelieveinahappilyeverafter on tumblr for a bunch more of my stuff!

Enjoy!

* * *

" _Seriously?_ _He actually went and made his own radio station?_ " Nemuri's shocked tone faded and was quickly followed by wild laughter that had Shota wincing as he dragged the phone away from his ear. Her laugh was often worse than the sound of feedback. " _And he's still calling himself a villain! Does he even know what a villain is?_ "

"Probably not," Shota sighed quietly, settling back on his couch under a heap of blankets and a purring Jelly. It was one of his rare nights off work and he was grateful for the chance to rest. His last fight as Eraserhead had been more taxing than he would have thought - even Mic had taken it easy on him in their fight a few days ago. "At least he's not taking over radio stations anymore."

" _Oh, yeah, I heard about that - I think I managed to get reception to one of them, once!_ " There was a moment of thoughtful silence that Shota quickly realized wasn't thoughtful at all. " _He sounds really smitten with you, you know._ "

"Please, his 'love' for me is just another game to play," Shota said quickly, rolling his eyes as Jelly yowled loudly and Nemuri started lecturing him. "As I was saying when I started this call, I don't know what to do about him."

" _Fuck him._ " It wasn't said as an insult, Shota realized after a moment, and Shota remembered his kidnapping and the song and dance Mic had done for him. He then hid himself under his blankets. " _Or let him fuck you. You could do to have something up your ass that's not a stick_ -"

" _Nemuri_ ," Shota finally snapped, grateful that he was alone in his apartment and no one could see the blush that was no doubt staining his cheeks. Jelly could, of course, but Shota had faith that she wouldn't tell on him. "I'm being serious."

" _You think I'm not?_ " Shota needed new friends because Kayama Nemuri was going to lead to his downfall, one day. She would at least have the decency to kill him herself, he supposed. " _Okay, okay. You said he's helping you on the Trigger case, right? Use that to get him more into hero work, maybe?_ "

"Possibly, but I doubt he'd be willing to work with any other heroes or even the police," Shota said, shaking his head. "He hates the entire system of pro heroes - and for good reason, it seems like."

" _Ooh, a villain with a tragic past. Now you have me curious. Any idea behind all the details?_ " Nemuri finally sounded like she was taking this seriously, but Shota hesitated in telling her about the hearing aids Present Mic wore. That part seemed… personal.

"It seems he grew up in an area similar to mine and had problems with how people viewed his quirk like I did." Really, their stories were near mirrors of each other. They had started the same, but Shota had gone on to become a bitter underground hero while Present Mic had gone on to be a cheerful villain. "The more I learn, the more it seems we had the same start."

" _Shota…_ " Nemuri was one of the few who knew about his past and his childhood, and if Shota had his way, then it would _remain_ as just a few. " _So, he's trying to change the system to make sure kids don't go through that. Jeez, he sounds like a hero, but he's going about it with a villain's strategy._ "

"Villainous heroics," Shota mumbled to himself, scratching Jelly behind the ear when she wiggled her way up his chest. "I've been listening in on his radio show, but I haven't learned much else besides what songs are popular."

" _Shota, are you sure you're listening to this radio station just to gather information? Because it sounds like you just want to hear his voice after having a horrible week._ " That couldn't be necessarily ruled out as a contributing factor, he conceded. " _Holy shit, is that really why_ -"

"Of course not, Nemuri, stop seeing things that aren't there. There is useful information scattered in there sometimes about active criminals in the area he lives in." It was subtle, but Mic seemed to be slipping tip offs into his show every chance he had in just a way that only someone who knew what to look for could pick up on it. He really was wasted as a villain.

" _Aw, Shota, you have an undercover boyfriend, that's so cute!_ " At the cheerful tone, Shota reminded himself that Nemuri could never find out about when he had been kidnapped. " _What's the name of his new radio station, anyways?_ "

"It's on 80.5," Shota sighed, looking to where his radio was playing music with a slight static tinge. "He's been calling it 'Put Your Hands Up Radio.'"

" _I'd almost be willing to call that adorable. Well, at least he's well suited to being with you if he can stay up so late and still be coherent enough to host a radio show. How long does he host?_ "

"One to five on Fridays," Shota frowned, reaching out to fiddle with the radio to try and get a clearer sound. "He plays music nonstop for forty-five minutes and then talks for fifteen before repeating the pattern."

" _Oh, Shota… You really do have it bad, don't you?_ " The tone was soft and bordered on sympathetic, Shota feeling his heart speed up. Before he could defend himself, he heard Nemuri's victorious shout. " _Aha! Found it!_ "

" _And that was Utada's 'Unbreakable' which has climbed once again to reach number eight in the charts - as I told you dear listeners it would!_ " Mic's voice, loud and delighted, filtered through Shota's apartment and seemed to fill up every inch of empty space. Shota hated himself for how he relaxed back into his blankets and pillows.

" _Shota,_ " Nemuri scolded loudly, Shota forced to move the phone a few inches back, again. " _You didn't tell me he had a voice like that! Does he look as good as he sounds?_ "

"Please return to hell," Shota mumbled, trying to focus back in on Mic's jabbering. It seemed he was taking in questions from his 'loyal listeners.' At least the man had the sense to use a burner phone to take in the calls.

" _You're on Put Your Hands Up Radio, listener! What can Present Mic do for you?_ " It made sense as to why the man was a villain after Shota had learned more of his past, but he really could have been so successful doing almost _anything_ else.

" _Yeah, hi, listen, I need your help to settle a bet._ " Shota shot up, staring at the radio with narrowed eyes because he knew that voice. That was one of twenty voices he had to deal with every day.

" _Shota_." Shota could hear Nemuri's own suspicions. " _Is that…?_ "

" _Fire away, little listener! And then please get some rest - it's almost three in the morning, you know!_ "

" _Yes, but this is important._ " Jiro Kyoka, one of his students, was calling into a radio show that was hosted by a villain. " _What's your opinion on Kaya's new song 'Later Lover?' I need to prove that even villains can tell what music is actually_ _ **good**_ _._ "

"She's getting detention," Shota decided, ignoring Nemuri's startled laugh. "What is she even doing up listening to this? There's no way she finished her essay for Hero Ethics already."

" _You're so mean to your students,_ " Nemuri gasped out, still laughing. Shota lowered his phone so he could focus on Mic's laughter, instead.

" _Well, little listener, I have to say that 'Later Lover' is quickly becoming a favorite of mine! It's a lot different than what Kaya has done with her music up until this point, but I think the risk is really paying off! You can bet I'll be one of the first in line to get her new album, which comes out next month!_ "

" _Thank you! See, I_ _ **told**_ _you-_ " Jiro's voice cut out as the call ended, Mic still laughing, and it was so easy to picture his wide smile and scrunched up eyes that not even his sunglasses could hide.

" _Alright, we still have a few minutes until the top of the hour, so let's take another caller! What can I do for you, dear listener?_ "

" _Oh, um, hi- Hi! So, uh, I was actually a bit curious about your quirk._ " The new voice was almost drowned out by another burst of Nemuri's laughter, Shota burying his face in his hands. He was going to have to expel that problem child. What were all his kids doing up at three in the morning listening to a _villain's_ radio show?

There was the quiet buzz of Midoriya's rambling thoughts on the nature of Present Mic's quirk, Mic himself sounding a little overwhelmed, " _Oi, oi, just how many kids are listening to my show right now?_ "

::

Present Mic's radio show appeared to have become a weekly event - to the point he would find a way to do it even when he was out doing one of his attention-grabbing schemes to prove the failed system of heroes and villains. Lately he had taken to dealing with threats and criminals before Shota could get there, and when Shota did arrive, Mic seemed to delight in fighting him, as well.

"Here I thought you had actually taken to being useful." Enjoying how Mic jumped and scrambled off the bar counter he had been sitting on, Shota watched as he turned around and gave a wide grin.

"Aw, hello there, _baby_. Don't get jealous, now, you know this is the best place to get word out - and I have a radio show to publicize now, you know!"

"And that involves tying up bartenders and terrorizing patrons, does it?" Shota looked to where the bartender and possible owner was indeed tied up and gagged, looking annoyed rather than scared.

"Only if they get in my way." Mic quickly dodged Shota's next lunge, grabbing an old, dented microphone and holding it out towards him. "Anything to say to my loyal listeners, _hero_?"

"Only that they should find a station that's actually decent," Shota snorted, watching as Mic clutched his heart and put on an exaggerated pout. "And that the kids who are listening to this trash need to turn it off and _go to sleep_."

"Aw, you do listen, then!" Mic's smile was the physical embodiment of sunshine and Shota almost wanted to squint his eyes at the sight of it. "Come on, _baby_ , surely you want to give a few words of wisdom to my loyal listeners, here."

"If they're stupid enough to listen to this every week, then there's no wisdom in them at all." Snapping his scarf out, Shota smirked as it latched around Mic's arm, the man giving him a grin in return as he adjusted his headphones - the same ones that Shota had returned by throwing them in his face the next time they met after their fight at the radio station.

"Sorry, listeners, I have to send you all on a music break a little early. I have a hero to teach a lesson to." Mic twisted enough to loosen the scarf before kicking a loose bar stool towards Shota, the sudden action making him curse as he leapt out of the way. "See you next week, listeners!"

Shota wasn't sure how long they fought until he was kneeling down next to a wrapped-up Mic, the man pouting with crooked glasses and a few strands of hair falling out of that ridiculous style of his.

"You didn't say my name." Shota let Mic look confused until the man figured out his words - as Shota knew he would. Present Mic seemed to have the ridiculous talent of always knowing what Shota meant.

"Of course not," Mic tsked, shaking his head. "C'mon, Eraser." The tone switched to something teasing, Mic giving him a smirk. "It wouldn't be very nice of me to give out the name of an _underground_ hero on a radio show, now would it?"

"Such a bad villain," Shota muttered back, propping his chin up on his palm as he balanced on the balls of his feet, trying to hide his small smile. Shota had never been wrong, at least, when he had first realized that Present Mic broke up his usual night time routine for something far more interesting.

"There's no need to go insulting me, _hero_ ," Mic said softly, voice quiet and warm as he gave Shota a smile that didn't seem faked or hidden behind too many secrets. "At least if I have to fight someone, it turned out to be you."

Staring down at the sweetly smiling villain known as Present Mic, Shota was realizing just how screwed he was.

::

" _My, my, Present Mic, you have been difficult to get a hold of._ " At the average, friendly voice that wouldn't have ever stood out on its own, Shota suddenly knew that something was _wrong_. Looking up from where he had been filling out paperwork for the police station, Shota stared at the radio where it was tuned in to Mic's show.

" _Oi, oi, of course I'm going to change numbers when some random person gets a hold of it!_ " Mic's voice was bright and cheerful and lightly scolding, but Shota could tell it was a front. Mic was worried or, at the very least, on edge.

" _I take it our product hasn't been to your liking?_ " Product… Trigger. This had to be the man who had offered Mic the Trigger in the club - the polite one he had been talking about. " _We do have others who detest the help themselves, I suppose_."

" _Hey, now, Present Mic works alone, you know! I'm not up for joining some little club when I've been doing just fine on my own!_ " As Mic talked, Shota dug around his papers and work until he found an old tape recorder, quickly turning it on and starting to record. This could be useful for the case, if nothing else.

" _The way I hear it, Present Mic, you haven't been reaching your full potential. You've been in jail how many times this month alone? If you wish, I have associates who would be willing to help you finish dealing with your hero problem._ "

This wasn't just a Trigger dealer, then, but an entire operation of something that sounded far bigger. There had been an increase in villain activity over the last year or so… could this be a part of that?

" _Jeez, you guys are really serious_ ," Mic muttered, sounding curious, but slightly unsure - just how they would expect him to sound. " _Oi, you said something about an offer to help me and all that. 'Shake the system of heroes and villains,' yeah?_ "

" _Indeed. My associates and I are in your type of business, Present Mic. I, and others in my line of work, represent a group of people who are intent are dismantling the current system of pro heroes. It's really all quite messy, don't you think? To leave the safety up to people who only care about their rankings?_ "

" _Well, now you're making sense!_ " Mic laughed, loud and dim and completely faked. " _What kind of associates have you got? I might actually have to give that 'product' of yours a chance, now._ "

" _Let's just say that we're a league onto our own._ " A league, huh… There was something dangerous rising up in the streets. " _You still have my card. As I said before, this offer seems to appeal to you, doesn't it?_ " There was a click that let Shota know the man had ended the call on his end, the radio buzzing with quiet static before he heard a low chuckle from Mic.

" _Interesting… Well, then?_ " Mic's voice was like a croon, low and deep and making Shota look to his radio out of instinct. " _Did you get all that,_ _ **hero**_ _?_ "

Fuck… Present Mic would have been a great hero.


	8. Chapter 8

So for those of you who were asking if this is after USJ... Heh. It's not. This story covers the USJ events briefly and goes on for most of Class 1-A's first year - although the time line might be vague and unsettled where I don't want to get too close to plot. Above all, this is EraserMic fluff! Well... after this chapter it is.

Remember you can check out my tumblr at ibelieveinahappilyeverafter for a bunch of other content and outdated memes and jokes that people wish would die already. This is what you get for setting up a queue, folks.

Enjoy!

* * *

"Yamada, just _when_ are you going to give up on this guy?" Startling at the voice, Hizashi did his best to not shriek from where he had been distracted dealing with his favorite customer. "I mean, he doesn't even notice _what_ you write on his cup every day."

"Maybe he's just too shy to mention it?" At the flat, disapproving look given to him, Hizashi puffed up his cheeks with a pout. "There's no need to be mean, Suzuki-chan."

"I'll stop being mean to you when you get a job fit for your age. You know only teenagers and college students work in coffee shops, right? Right? Because this is just sad, Yamada."

"When did children get to be so disrespectful," Hizashi tsked, glancing around the shop to see it was dead as it usually was. Lovely Coffee tended to be on the expensive side and, unlike chain stores, they took a bit longer to make an order. The result tended to be very few customers – even in the mornings. "And stop prying into my love life!"

"Aha! That means there's a love life to speak of!" Suzuki pulled herself up onto the counter, the extra height doing very little to make her look intimidating. Hizashi was certain that no one with bubblegum pink pigtails could look threatening. "Come on, Yamada, tell your senpai everything."

"You started here three days before I did, kid." Hizashi sighed and went to restock the coffee cups, contemplating poking a hole in the bottom of each one. "He's just a cute guy."

"Your old man tastes are weird. He looks so _old_ , Yamada, he probably has kids _my_ age!" Considering Aizawa was around Yamada's age of thirty, he sincerely doubted the man had a seventeen-year-old child. "Just ask him out on a date the next time he's in here. I mean, I've _seen_ some of the sappy stuff you write on his cups."

"Hey! My heart and soul go into the lyrics and poems I pick out to put on those cups!" Hizashi rolled his eyes at the disapproving look he was given, turning back to his work. "It's fine if he doesn't notice them. Honestly, I would be surprised if he did. He looks like he can hardly breathe in the mornings, let alone read."

"You've been stalking this guy for months, Yamada. At this point it's just getting sad," Suzuki huffed, mumbling and muttering to herself before she snapped her fingers. "I got it! You can- Dammit." Looking back, Hizashi tried not to laugh at seeing the girl was floating off the counter. "Shut up!"

"Hey, hey, easy, Suzuki-chan," Hizashi soothed, seeing the look of fear in the girl's eyes as she started floating higher. Before she could get too high, Hizashi grabbed her wrists and gently pulled her back down until she could safely snap her fingers and fall out of the air. "I still have problems with my own quirk, you know."

"Yeah, but you're a hopeless old man, it's fine if you can't use your quirk right." Suzuki gave him a rare smile even as she kicked out at him and forced him to jump back to dodge. "And we were talking about your love life! Don't change the subject!"

"I wasn't," Hizashi complained, crossing his arms as he leaned back against the opposite counter. "I'm listening, though, if you want to share that idea you obviously had."

"You mentioned he was some pro hero or something, right?" 'Some pro hero or something.' Hizashi had told her no less than a dozen times by now that Aizawa was _Eraserhead_ , one of the top underground heroes in all of Japan. "Stage a scene where he has to save you! When you ask how you can repay him, then you can offer to, you know… _repay_ him."

"I am almost absolutely certain that it is illegal for someone your age to talk to someone my age about that, and even if it wasn't, it feels like it should be." Children were so much worse than they were in his day - and he hadn't thought that possible!

"You're no fun," Suzuki huffed, jumping off the counter. "You can't just keep giving him secret love letters he never reads, you know! You have to get his attention in another way, Yamada, or nothing is ever going to happen!"

"Oh, don't worry… I have ways of getting Aizawa's attention." At least, _Present Mic_ had his ways of doing that. If everything went to plan, then he'd _definitely_ have Eraserhead's attention tonight.

"I don't know… Maybe you should cut your hair and save that stupid mustache-"

" _Hold your tongue_!"

::

Hizashi had been about to pull off his greatest scheme as a villain yet. It would have been the perfect scheme to really gather media attention, get his point across, and prove to the heroes of the world that they were never _looking_. He had planned it out for weeks, had gone over every detail as carefully as possible, and had been ready for any and all possible setbacks.

He had not, however, been prepared for the two hours it took him to climb a tree to rescue a squealing, screaming cat that seemed to be stuck right at the very top. It was a very tall tree, too, and the screams had broken his heart before he could even try to mount a defense against it.

So when Aizawa found him those two hours later, it was not to the sight of a brilliant scheme and trap that he had meticulously planned and laid out, but instead to the sight of Hizashi exhausted and sore from rescuing a cat from a tree.

"I would ask what you're doing, but mostly I'm just hoping you fall out of that tree." Maybe if Hizashi pretended he wasn't there, then Aizawa would go away and leave him to his misery in peace. "If you step there, you're going to fall."

"I have no doubt you'd catch me, Eraser," Hizashi called down cheerfully, putting his weight on another branch instead. "Don't you know it's rude to shout up to people who are in trees, though? It's distracting and could cause them to fall!"

"Who says that's not what I want?" Aizawa was waiting at the bottom of the tree and, even from where he was, Hizashi could tell he was tracking his progress with careful eyes. It was almost enough to make him clutch at his heart at the obvious show of care and worry, but he did rather need both hands at the moment.

"You're breaking my heart, _hero_!" Getting down to the last few branches, Hizashi carefully swung himself down, sighing in relief when he was back on the ground with his arms sorer than they had been to prove it. "Right, then, Eraserhead… I have something to ask of you."

Waiting a few seconds to make the moment more dramatic, Aizawa tense and uncertain across from him, Hizashi untucked the kitten from where she had hidden herself in his jacket as he climbed down the tree. "Is- Is that a cat?"

"You like cats?" Hizashi already knew the answer considering he had seen the man feed the alley cats near his coffee shop and he only ever ate those cat muffins in the mornings.

"They're cats," Aizawa said, as if that explained everything. Hizashi supposed it rather did, for him. Honestly, Aizawa was like a cat himself, some days.

"Right! Um, can you take this little guy back to the station? I'm not welcomed back there." He had angered the police chief, a horrible little man, with his last trip down to the police station, so he'd rather avoid that place for a while longer.

"I almost wish you robbed banks," Aizawa finally muttered, looking honestly upset as Hizashi laughed and pushed the kitten into his arms.

"She doesn't have a collar, but she's well-groomed and might be a lost pet," Hizashi explained, giving the sweet little thing a scratch under her chin. "I'd take her myself and make some posters, but my lease only allows for one cat, and Snowball doesn't like to share!"

"You… have a cat?" That would get Aizawa's attention, wouldn't it? Well, at least Hizashi wouldn't be lying to Suzuki when he said he finally had Aizawa's attention. "A cat named Snowball."

"I know, I know, it's a bad name, but it fit at the time," Hizashi laughed, shaking his head. "I found him half drowned in a gutter and took him home and by the time I got him dried off he was a little ball of screaming fluff."

"Present Mic." Oh, boy, full villain name. That wasn't good. Maybe Aizawa had realized what Hizashi's plan had been, tonight? "Go home."

"I- What?" That… had not been what Hizashi had expected. Aizawa _always_ ended the night by dragging him to the police station except the one or two times Hizashi had managed to run away before he had been cuffed. He had never just let Hizashi _go_. "Oi, oi, I know you don't think so, but I _am_ a villain-"

"No, you're really not." Aizawa didn't even raise his voice. He spoke evenly, meeting Hizashi's gaze as he held the quiet kitten in his arms. "I'm telling you to go home because there's no point to what you've been doing. Why are you even doing this?"

"No _point_ -" Hizashi cut himself off, taking a steadying breath. "Look, I'm not just going to walk by a cat stuck in a tree when I can get up there and help - and this one is just a kitten!"

" _Mic_." Aizawa took a steadying breath after his outburst, looking frustrated - although Hizashi couldn't tell if it was with him or Aizawa himself. "You are not a villain." Well, not in the traditional sense, but that was the whole _point_ of this, wasn't it? "You've been giving us tip offs and helping with the Trigger case for months, now."

"That's just because our agendas lined up. It's not like it cost me anything to help you out with that when it didn't hurt me, any-"

"You're not an idiot." The words weren't surprised and tinged with something amused and warm, this time. They were instead cold and angry. "If you were really trying to 'change the system,' then you could have done any number of things with that Trigger beyond giving it to me."

"Funny for you to say I'm not an idiot and then treat me like one," Hizashi drawled, feeling a swirl of cold rage that he hadn't felt in a long time. "You think I'm just some pity case of yours, don't you? Some way to break up the long, predictable patrols." Aizawa flinched, Hizashi narrowing his eyes. "Thought so. Whatever you want to believe, this has never been just some _game_ to me."

"Yet you treat it like one?" Aizawa shook his head before Hizashi could get a word out. "You take over bars, cause mischief, and you end up helping more than you end up hurting. You're like a child who doesn't know what a villain really is. Do you know how many people die in villain attacks each year? You do your research, don't you? There is no such thing as a reformed _villain_ in our society. Criminals and thugs, sure, maybe, if they were people in the wrong place at the wrong time, but villains?

"Villains are not a game for you to play at. A real villain is out to cause harm for the sheer fact that they _want_ something - power, attention, recognition, money, and the list goes on. You work to get attention, but you never do anything with it. You play around like the kid who's stuck with the role of villain during a game of heroes. You? Dangerous? Don't make me laugh."

Aizawa's voice had gone cold and _amused_ , a smirk pulling at his lips as he stared Hizashi down, never stopping, "You keep telling me your quirk is dangerous, and maybe that's true, but it's a poor 'villain's quirk' for someone like you. You couldn't be dangerous if you tried. When was the last time you hurt someone innocent, Mic? When was the last time you sacrificed someone standing in your way for your own plans? When did you last _kill someone_ , Mic?"

Aizawa stared at him for a long moment, finally huffing something that could have been a laugh if there was any heart in it, "Go home, Mic." For the first time in a very long time, Hizashi found himself utterly speechless as Aizawa turned away and just _left_. He walked away and turned his back as if he knew, without a doubt, that Hizashi wouldn't even try to put up a fight and attack him.

"No… No, you don't get to just _end it_ like that!" The man didn't even bother to turn around, instead disappearing into one of the alleyways. Hizashi knew that even if he ran, he wouldn't see the man again tonight. " _Erase_ _ **rhead**_ -"

Slapping his hands over his mouth when he felt the slip of his quirk, Hizashi stared at the empty street in front of him where a hero, someone who he _saw_ as a hero, just told him to go home. As if there was anything at 'home' besides a loud cat and busted furniture. Fuck- _Fuck_. It had been so long since he had lost control over his quirk, and it only took a few words from someone like Aizawa… No. It only took a few words from _Aizawa_ to make him lose it.

It had been months since he had started everything as Present Mic and he had gotten comfortable. He had gotten too comfortable in his routine with Aizawa and trying to get attention focused on him. What else was he supposed to do? Becoming known as a villain would make people _look_ \- and if they looked, they would listen. They wouldn't listen if he didn't make them, though.

Hizashi gritted his teeth as his clenched fists started to shake, one thought running through his head. It wasn't ending like this. He wasn't just going to _let_ Aizawa end it like this, like Hizashi was some misbehaving child who needed a slap on the wrist and some advice.

Hizashi had been annoyed, before, and he had certainly been upset, but now? Oh, now he was _pissed_.

::

Hizashi didn't see Aizawa in Lovely coffee the next day and Suzuki didn't ask about his sudden change in mood. He didn't bother to offer an explanation, either, no matter how many times she looked like she wanted to start a conversation - the silence was better. He wouldn't have been able to focus on anything else, anyways, what with how Aizawa's words kept running through his mind.

Had _he_ been the one to think this was all some sort of game? Was he just humoring the child playing heroes and villains, then? Hizashi had known that Aizawa was blunt with a sharp, depressing sense of humor, but before last night, he had never thought of the man as cruel.

It had been months, yet Aizawa still didn't seem to understand what the purpose of Present Mic was. Did he not see? Was it not obvious? It wasn't a game, but an attack brought onto their own battlefield. The world of heroes was filled with media attention, bright lights, and the knowledge that the world was constantly watching.

It was the opposite where they lived. Their world was filled with shadows, secrets, and the knowledge that no one in the world would ever see what happened on these streets. That could change, though. If a bright, flashy, and _loud_ villain repeatedly attacked the same area and pulled off ridiculous crimes, the media would be forced to act eventually - if for no other reason than to satisfy their curiosity.

Once they looked, however, Hizashi would have made sure that they didn't look away - no matter what it would have taken. If a light needed to be shined down upon these dark streets, then he'd be the one to take all the blame and hell that there would be to pay.

If Aizawa was going to accuse him of this being nothing but a game, though, then _Present Mic_ would show him that it wasn't. He wasn't dangerous? His _quirk_ wasn't a 'villain's quirk?' Fine. Hizashi would just prove true what everyone else had ever told him.

Adjusting his headphones, Hizashi glanced up at the buildings in front of him. It was an old, abandoned block that should be empty, that night, with the time and location - it was close enough to get the attention of some hero agencies, though.

"You don't want a game, Eraserhead? Alright." Planting his feet and making sure his stance was solid, Hizashi danced his fingers across his directional speaker before turning it off. "Then how about a show?"

Taking in a slow, deep breath to fill his lungs with as much air as possible, Hizashi didn't bother to hold back his quirk any longer, throwing everything into his voice as he opened his mouth and _screamed_. The world fell silent, nothing escaping past his headphones as the vibrations rocked through him, Hizashi swearing he could feel the shiver of the paved road under his feet.

When he finally was forced to suck in gulps of air, Hizashi opened his eyes, not quite sure when he had even closed them. Looking up at the buildings in front of him, Hizashi gave a bitter laugh at seeing every window in his eyesight looked to have been shattered, the buildings around him crumbling. The building directly in front of him, the one he remembered _so well_ , looked to have been shattered to pieces.

These buildings had been condemned for years, but Hizashi got petty satisfaction at seeing that _that_ building, at least, would never be used again.

Flipping his directional speaker back on, Hizashi looked around for a fire escape that looked steady, making his way up to the rooftops as quick as possible, body vibrating with tension and adrenaline. This time, with this much noise and destruction, it would be more than Eraserhead to show up.

It took almost half an hour, but Hizashi was right in his guess that Eraserhead wouldn't be the only one. There was a pro hero in front of him - a pro hero who was dressed in a very revealing… Ah. Midnight, then. Looking around for Aizawa, Hizashi scowled to himself when he didn't see the man. What was taking him so long?

"Hmph. You're not Eraserhead." It didn't seem like there were any other heroes around, at least. "Look," Hizashi sighed, taking his sunglasses off for a moment and giving a beaming smile. "Nothing against you, _Miss Midnight_ , but could you beat it?" He slid his glasses back on, keeping on a smile that he didn't feel. "It's just that Eraserhead and I have a _thing_ going on! Ya dig?"

Feeling his knees suddenly buckle, Hizashi caught himself before he could completely fall on his face, swearing as he quickly covered his nose and mouth at remembering this was _Midnight_. Her quirk, while simple, was a powerful one.

"Dolt," Midnight tsked, rolling her eyes as she walked over to him, heels making a sharp sound against the concrete of the building roof. "You must be Present Mic, then. Eraserhead told me you could scream, but he didn't mention it could get like _this_!"

There was a pink mist that surrounded the air, Hizashi cursing himself for not noticing it sooner as he felt like his head was being filled with cotton. Glaring up at the hero, Hizashi saw Midnight only give him a sharp smile.

"Oh, you seem like you could be _fun_." A sudden lunge and Midnight had his wrists grabbed and held tightly, her free hand gripping his chin and forcing him to hold his breath even tighter. "Aw, come on, baby, don't you want to take a nice nap?"

Hizashi met her eyes and glared, lungs and chest _burning_ as he shook from the need to breathe, Midnight making an approving sound, "You certainly last long, don't you? I can see why Eraserhead is so caught up on you."

It was no use. Hizashi had already breathed in more than enough of the mist to drag him down and, judging by the way his vision was swimming, it wouldn't be much longer until he was fully under. Gaze catching on Midnight's, Hizashi sucked in a breath, _tasting_ the sweet scent that coated his mouth before he spoke, "Tell him… it wasn't a game…"

Hizashi had time to see Midnight's surprised look before he felt himself tip to the side. He was out before his body even hit the ground.

The sudden sensation of something cold and wet smacking his face had Hizashi jerking up with a gasp, the noise turning into a pained hiss at the bright sunlight that burned his uncovered eyes. Scrambling to find where his glasses were, Hizashi snatched them up when he saw a twinkle of orange before shoving them on his face.

"Damn kids. You dress crazier every night." An old man with a wet mop was staring down at him, looking aggravated. "Get off this roof. I have cleaning to do."

"I- What time is it?" The sun was well on its way into being in the sky and it had to be late morning, at the earliest, Hizashi's mind scrambling to try and adjust to the change. It had been midnight just a few seconds ago. Midnight. _Midnight_.

"Almost eleven," the man - a janitor? - snorted, giving him a kick. "Get off my damn roof, already."

"Alright, alright, I'm going!" Standing up, and more than a bit wobbly, Hizashi gulped down lungful's of clean, untainted air as he looked around at the bright, sunny day. A sunny day had never felt as cold as this one.

Not only had Midnight not even bothered to take him to the police station after _drugging him unconscious_ , but it was a safe bet that Eraserhead had never even shown up. Hizashi had done more damage in one night than he had ever done in his whole run as a villain, and Aizawa had never even _showed himself_.

Bitter, he decided, didn't even begin to describe how he was feeling.

::

"Present Mic, right?" A body dropped into the seat beside his, voice loud even over the deafening bass of the club that Hizashi was attempting to get himself drunk in. He had half a mind to cause some trouble, but he was waiting until he was a bit closer to wasted instead of just tipsy.

"Ah, ah… Getting approached by people who know me in clubs seems to be becoming a new thing of mine," Hizashi joked, shot glass held between his lax fingers as he turned his gaze to the man, studying him quickly. It looked like he was armed and the amount of muscle, and where it was, showed that the man knew how to fight, if nothing else. "What can I do for ya!"

"How would you like to join a little party that's being thrown?" Oh? Now Hizashi was curious. Ah… but why should he be? It wasn't like a _villain_ would care much.

"And what makes you think your party is worth going to?" The smile the man gave him was wild and wide and looked like nothing but trouble.

"You're the one who wants to destroy the hero system, right?" Well, at least he was stirring up attention somewhere. "The one who wants revenge on heroes?"

"Maybe," Hizashi sang the word, drawing it out and turning around in his chair and doing his best to put on a cheerful face. He couldn't help but think on how Aizawa would have known his smile was fake in a moment. "What have you got in mind?"

"Something to show all of Japan just who the strong ones in this world really are." The man laughed, voice just barely heard over the thumping of the music. "What would you say if I said the Symbol of Peace could be defeated?"

"I'd say you were crazy." There was the system of heroes, but then there was _All Might_. He was number one for a reason – he was the Symbol of _Peace_ for a reason – and Hizashi had no delusions about 'defeating' All Might. "And that you're going to get you and your party killed."

"Don't be so sure." A slip of paper was pressed into his free hand, a laugh accompanying it. "You know All Might started teaching at that hero school, right? U.A.?" Hizashi had heard about that, but his focus was mostly on how it felt as if his heart had just stopped. U.A. was a school full of _kids_. "Call me when you're interested, Present Mic. You'd be good to have on our side."

A group of villains were gathering together to try and defeat All Might. There was no way that would ever work. Seeing the man start to leave, Hizashi quickly raised his voice, "Oi, wait! Who's the leader of this little party of yours!"

"Don't worry about it, man, don't worry about it!" The laugh was wild and fierce and so confident that Hizashi felt nausea pooling into his stomach. "Let's just say he's in a league all his own!"

 _"Let's just say that we're a league onto our own."_

Watching the man disappear into the crowds, Hizashi looked back down at the number in his hand before downing his shot in one go and thumping the glass on the bar counter.

He didn't have a good feeling about this.


	9. Chapter 9

Boy howdy has it been a long week. School started back up for me and I was not prepared for the ass kicking it delivered, but here we are with the next chapter! This also marks the halfway point for this fic, so halfway there, everyone!

Oh, a quick thing to clear up about the time line - this chapter marks the after effects of the USJ event. Aizawa and Mic first met sometime in the fall/winter months of the last school year, before our own class 1-A. The time line is a little bit different since I pushed the USJ event back as compared to canon, but we should be on track now - roughly. I'll still be vague, but we're still in our first semester of U.A. with the month being around mid to late April.

Remember that you can check out my tumblr at ibelieveinahappilyeverafter for more stories, ways to support me, and even ways to make it so you see even _more_ of my writing!

Enjoy!

* * *

The soft beams of spring sunlight fell into his room in leafed patterns, a warm breeze blowing pale blue curtains back from the open window. Golden sunlight and the bright yellow gifts on the stand next to his bed were the only bright colors in the room, everything else in muted and dimmed shades that made him unable to completely relax. Shota never _had_ liked hospitals, and his inability to move even the smallest amount had him wanting to get up more and more as the moments ticked by. The only reason he hadn't tried, yet, was because there were half hourly checks from doctors and nurses who had come to know him too well.

A soft knock on the door let him know that it was time for another check. Shota fought to not roll his eyes, instead keeping his gaze straight ahead. If it was another nurse or doctor, he might throw something, or at least attempt to. He'd had enough talks and warnings about what had happened to him during the USJ attack.

Instead of a doctor, though, he heard a familiar voice calling out a soft, "How are you doing?" Familiar heels had him glancing over to see that Nemuri was dressed outside of her hero costume, a soft sweater dress and red shawl paired with simple glasses.

"Fine," Shota replied after a moment, because, well, he _was_ fine. He wasn't at his best, but it could have been worse. He could have died instead of simply being rendered unconscious.

"If you say so," Nemuri snorted, not sounding very believing. It was reassuring more than anything else that she wasn't acting like he was on his deathbed like all his other visitors had been so far. Actually, now that Nemuri was here, he might finally get an answer to as to _who_ had left the brightly colored gifts he had been staring at for the last few days.

"Who left these?" The bright yellow made him suspect All Might due to the man no doubt blaming himself for what had happened at USJ, but it didn't quite seem like his style. The flowers were _disgustingly_ yellow, after all.

"Don't tell me you of all people can't tell," Nemuri laughed, quiet and bright, as she plucked the card off the stand and opened it up. The inside had a doodle of a screaming cat with hearts around it, the other side reflecting a message to get well soon.

"Idiot," Shota muttered, turning away to attempt to hide the fact his face was no doubt looking as flushed as it felt. Even after he had said the worst he could and avoided his usual route to try and get 'Present Mic' to stop endangering himself, the man had still sent him flowers and a get-well card. Fuck, he was absolutely _smitten_.

"Mhm, and there's more," Nemuri half-sang, tone teasing as she shut the card and flipped it over to the back. "He managed to cram a lot of writing onto this thing, you know. He also has horrible handwriting."

"Get to the point." There was more? It was probably something sickeningly sweet - or worse. Maybe having Nemuri read it wasn't a good idea. "Or set it down already."

"Too late!" Nemuri chirped. "He wants you to know that he'll be taking over your patrol route until you get better." Present Mic what? "It seems he found out about this whole thing on the news. Oh, poor thing, he must have been distraught."

"'Poor thing?' Since when did you get so fond of him?" Shota finally looked back to Nemuri, frowning a bit at the almost serious look on her face. "Nemuri."

"Well, remember when you gave me your patrol and I told you nothing had happened? I might have lied just a teensy bit." Nemuri gave a fake smile and Shota felt his heart plummet into his stomach.

"Nemuri. What did you _do_?" He had given his patrol over to Midnight because his presence only seemed to _encourage_ Mic. He was trying to steer him _away_ from doing any villainy, but maybe Midnight had been the wrong choice in hero.

"I just put him to sleep when he was causing trouble! I didn't even take him to the police station or anything!" Nemuri defended, looking as if she was being accused of some great crime. "You said he had a voice quirk, but I didn't take that to mean that he could level an entire city block-"

"He did _what_?" It wasn't that Shota hadn't realized how powerful Mic's quirk was, but he had never really _used_ it. There was no way he had the power to level a _block_ , though.

"That was my reaction! I looked around the whole area and at least five buildings were completely destroyed down to the ground and the windows in a mile radius were _shattered_. He was waiting up on a roof near the epicenter for… Well, for you."

Since it was only Nemuri in the room, Shota allowed himself to slump even further against his bed, groaning quietly. Of _course_ Mic had done something like that just to get his attention. "He was trying to prove a point." He had been trying to prove he could be a villain. "Did he say anything before you knocked him out?"

"He certainly put up a fight," Nemuri huffed, crossing her arms and being careful not to bend the card. Shota was more thankful about that than he wanted to be. "He probably could have fought me off if he hadn't realized what my quirk was too late."

"Told you." Mic was clever and he could keep up with Shota night after night. He had probably been taken by surprise where he hadn't _expected_ Midnight to show up. "So, you took him by surprise?"

"Of course. He was a bit of a dolt," Nemuri said, a laugh to her words before she met Shota's gaze. "He said to tell you that it wasn't a game." This time, Shota's stomach felt like it was missing as much as All Might's was. "Shota?"

"I think I made a mistake, Nemuri." It had seemed logical. It was the most logical idea to force Mic to become aware of the truth and then remove himself from the situation entirely. It had been perfect. Present Mic would have died a quiet death and whoever he truly was would be free to find some avenue of life that didn't end with pain and a mistake he could never come back from. This, though…

Mic had made a stand and proved that he wasn't going to be pushed back into the role of a civilian who was forced to do nothing except to watch. He had attempted to make the world watch and had insisted that it all hadn't been a game. To him, it probably wasn't. Present Mic wasn't an idiot. He had been _trying_ to garner attention - and the easiest way to get attention these days was to be a hero, or… Shit.

"I'm sure you didn't make a mistake you can't fix," Nemuri finally said, waving the card around. "I mean, he sent you _flowers_ and a get-well card. Here, listen to his." Nemuri flipped to the back of the card again, clearing her throat, "'Someone has to watch out for the kids trapped in this place.' See? He's taking care of it all so you can have a rest. Like I said, he's definitely a vigilante."

Shota stared at Nemuri and the card before blinking slowly, trying to calmly sort out his thoughts and feelings before he gave a slow nod. "Nemuri." The woman leaned to her right, looking ready to run for the door. "You were right."

"Oh? Of course! Ah, but just to be certain, what was I right about this time?" Nemuri watched him and Shota couldn't bring himself to do much more than to look over at the flowers. He was almost grateful for the bandages that covered his face and the no doubt sickening expression that was forming. "Oh- _Oh_! You really do have feelings for him!"

Nemuri's cackling laughter was almost more reassuring than it was annoying, Shota sighing and watching the golden sunlight start to fade and make way for soft, cool blues. The bright yellow flowers and card seemed to warm his room just fine, though.

::

Shota stood by his decision to return to the school as quickly as possible, but unlike some people seemed to think, he wasn't unaware of the limitations of his body, especially after all that had happened to it. His healing sessions with Recovery Girl were slow going and, with his insomnia and sleeping problems, only so much of his body could be healed at one time. The result was a constant state of exhaustion and pain that _never_ seemed to leave.

He had taken to sleeping on the couch most nights, too tired and sore to make it to his bedroom. The only bright side was that falling asleep on the couch often meant he could catch snippets of Present Mic's radio show when he had the energy to stay conscious. The weekly show was still midnight to five on Friday nights through the next morning on Saturday, but Shota caught bits and pieces of his voice throughout the weeknights, as if he couldn't stop himself from being on the radio as much as possible.

He would have been a good radio host, Shota mused. There were so many stats and ratings and changing news on heroes and villains, Shota could easily see the need and use of a radio station designed for it all. Mic would have run it wonderfully, he was sure.

The one good thing about being confined to his apartment was that he had plenty of time to catch up on grading homework and work on his case files. The largest was, without a doubt, the open case on Trigger. There were multiple heroes and police officers working on it, but Shota seemed to have taken on the brunt of it.

Working while listening to Mic's show, though, was what made him realize just who the 'anonymous source' was that was turning in the many dealers and users associated with Trigger. That man was turning out to be something else entirely. He also didn't seem to know when to stop pushing himself.

" _Sorry for that last interruption, dear listeners! It's been a busy week for me, here, but I can promise that you're not getting rid of me quite yet - although the police and heroes are welcome to try!_ " The expected cackle full of wild energy was instead a quiet, strained laugh that showed just how thin the man had been stretching himself. The USJ attack must have shaken him up as much as it did the rest of the world. Never before had _children_ training to be _heroes_ come so close to dying. " _Alright, dear listeners, let's take some requests and get your jam session for the night underway!_ "

Absently tapping his pencil against the edge of his work, Shota stared at his radio as he listened to Mic's voice. He knew that he himself had a problem with wearing himself thin, but Mic sounded like he had passed that point long ago. Considering the news stories coming out about his own involvement in USJ, it was possible Mic thought that Eraserhead was _dying_.

"I suppose there's nothing for it," Shota sighed, scratching at Jelly's head and smiling at her loud purrs. "The chocolates weren't the worst thing, after all."

It hadn't been until the casts on his arms had come off that he had been able to open the gift left by Present Mic, but once he had, he had found a collection of dark chocolates that were filled with caffeine. They had been surprisingly good, and Shota supposed that deserved a small thank you, or at least, the knowledge that Shota was fine and Eraserhead would soon be back at work and kicking Mic's ass during his 'villainous attempts.'

Dialing up the number he had, regrettably, memorized, Shota waited until he heard the dual sound of Mic greeting him both on the radio and through the phone, " _Yo, dear listener, you're on with Present Mic! What's your song request for the evening!_ " Ah. Right. Song request. Hm…

"Play that song you sang when you kidnapped me." There was absolute silence from both phone and radio, Shota frowning as he pulled his phone back enough to check if the call was still going.

" _Eras_ _ **erhead!**_ " There were the loud sounds of objects breaking and crashing to ground that was soon followed by Mic swearing loudly at the fact that it seemed his quirk has slipped. It was… cute- Shit. Nemuri listened to Mic's shows, too, and she could recognize his voice. Nevermind the fact that Mic had just screamed his name over his show. " _You're alive! Holy shit, you're actually alive and okay and not dead!_ "

"If you were a sanctioned broadcast you would have been shut down by now," Shota drawled, pleased he didn't have to hide his smile at the fact Mic was swearing and cursing over live air. "You're also an idiot if you think I'm going to die from a few thugs with inflated egos."

" _You're… actually okay._ " The breath that Mic released sounded like it had carried weeks of tension. Shota found himself feeling bad for the stress he had caused the man - even if it was unintentional. " _Wait, did you actually call in to request a song?_ "

"What other reason would I have to call in?" Shota hung up before he could say something incriminating, hating himself for the smile he could _feel_ on his face at Mic's laughter - wild and loud and bright and filling up every inch of his apartment.

" _Well, listeners, next up is a requested song that I'm dedicating to my_ _ **favorite**_ _listener. I expect to see you back out on the streets soon,_ _ **hero**_ **.** " The song that was imprinted across his memories started up and Shota relaxed back into the couch, gently scratching Jelly's back as he sighed and closed his eyes for a moment.

He was in far too deep with Present Mic. It was almost a shame that he couldn't even bring himself to regret one moment of it.

::

"Aw, come on, Eraser, you're so grumpy tonight! I think we need to _erase_ that bad attitude!" Fukukado Emi, better known as the hero Ms. Joke, burst into laughter that made Shota want to lose his hearing altogether. He could only be grateful that he didn't need to waste his energy using his quirk to stop her own. Even she knew better than to use her quirk on him when they were out on an active patrol.

"You're noisy," Shota muttered, trailing along behind her as they walked the streets. He would usually take the rooftops, but Joke had never quite been able to keep up with him that way. The nights they and their agencies partnered together usually meant his feet stayed on the ground.

"C'mon, eraser! Just go on a date with me!" Weeks of recovery, days of arguing that he was ready, and long, tedious hours of reassuring Nemuri, and Shota had _finally_ been allowed back on patrol. He was then chained to Joke because, he assumed, everyone hated him. "I know you're not busy this weekend!"

"Drop it, Joke." He wasn't 'busy' because Nemuri was practically forcing him to take more breaks until his body fully recovered. He was feeling his exhaustion, now, but he had a feeling that was more to do with Joke than anything else.

"Oh, I see how it is, Eraserhead." Head snapping up at the familiar voice, Shota startled as he saw Present Mic standing a few feet away from them. The man looked… wrong. His entire stance was closed off and his face was blank of emotion. What the hell had happened? He had been fine on his last radio show. "Just tell me… What does she have that I don't?!"

Present Mic, it seemed, was an ugly crier. He was also an absolute idiot because he was now sobbing over, what Shota assumed, was the 'fact' that he and _Joke_ of all people were in a relationship. He honestly felt like he was losing brain cells the longer he tried to wrap his head around that thought. Finally, though, he managed to say the first words he had spoken to Mic since the last time they had seen each other, "Well, brains, for a start."

"Wait- Wait, wait, wait, _this_ is Present Mic!" Joke was beaming, looking between the two before Shota saw an evil glint enter her eyes that reminded him far too much of Nemuri. " _You're_ the one Eraser is always talking about, right! The funny, cute one with the radio show?" _Nemuri, that rat_.

"I'm what?" Mic's crying stopped at once, the man blinking at them with wide, startled eyes. Shota wished, with everything in him, that his quirk allowed him to sink into the earth and disappear.

"Yeah, yeah! Even _I've_ heard a lot about you. Man, Eraser, no wonder you keep rejecting my date offers when you have your eye on _this_ guy."

"I do _not_ -"

"You talk about me!" The smile… was so bright. Shota had always thought it ridiculous to describe people in comparison to objects or nature, but, well, looking at Mic's smile was like looking at sunlight.

"I mention you," Shota finally conceded, watching with detached horror as Mic and Joke proceeded to laugh, bond, and become the best of friends within ten minutes. It seemed that Joke had not only betrayed his trust, but that Shota would never be able to live this night down.

::

"Well then, _hero_ , how goes the day?" It had taken a better part of the night, but Shota had finally managed to separate Mic and Joke from becoming blood siblings. He was still trying to figure out when exactly that had ended with him and Mic sitting on top of a roof, legs swung over the side.

"Shouldn't it be night?" Shota raised an eyebrow, keeping a blank face at Mic's quiet, soft laugh. It was harder than he would have thought to not smile. "I'm fine. Nobody's yet to believe me when I say that, though."

"For good reason, I'd think. You looked like a mummy the last time I saw you on the news. It… It didn't look good, Eraser. The media has been having a field day about the attack at that U.A. training field."

"I'm aware." The media hadn't spared any force when it came to ripping into the heroes for their inability to stop the attack before it happened. The world always had its eyes on the hero schools, and Japan had a _spotlight_ on U.A. To see the children attacked and even All Might almost losing? It was a sobering reality. "We'll recover."

"You, Eraser, are too much of what a hero should be." At the sharp, bitter laugh, Shota glanced over. Mic had removed his speaker and had his headphones resting around his neck, hearing aids clear to see with the way his hair was styled. Shota was still trying to figure out how the man could handle ear piercings when wearing hearing aids _and_ headphones. "I'm not sure that's a good thing."

"There are some that would agree with you," Shota finally said, looking back down to the streets below them. "What's the point of having the power to help, though, if we don't."

"You're something else, _hero_." Twitching at the name a bit, Shota looked back to Mic and felt guilt clawing at him as it had been since he had heard about Mic's encounter with Nemuri. "Oh? That's not a good look. You know, you could give a guy the wrong-"

"I'm sorry." Hm. It looked like he had finally found a way to shut Mic up. Of course it came at the expense of his pride, but, well… This was more important than pride. "I don't regret the intent behind my words, but I do regret how I phrased them. I'm also sorry that it took so long to give you the apology you deserved."

"Ah, jeez, I- No, you don't have to-" Mic fumbled with his words for a moment, finally groaning as he rubbed at his eyes. "It's not like anything you were saying was _wrong_."

"Can you repeat that? I want to make sure you realize you just said you were wrong, and I was right." There was a punch to his shoulder that had him giving a quiet huff of laughter, Mic perking up at the sound. "Still. What I said was cruel."

"If it hadn't been you then it would have been someone else, eventually. I'm willing to pretend it never happened if you are, though." Mm. That seemed irresponsible. "That a yes?"

"Sure." The two were quiet for a moment - something Shota still couldn't believe Present Mic was capable of. Finally, though, he broke the silence with the question that had been on his mind since they saw each other earlier, "Are you going to tell me what's still bothering you? You haven't even made an attempt at causing trouble, tonight."

"Ah, you're too smart for me, Eraserhead," Mic sighed, loud and dramatic. He was hiding, but Shota didn't know what - yet. "That attack… The USJ attack they're calling it?"

"Unoriginal, but accurate," Shota snorted, giving a nod. "What about it? I already told you I was fine. The kids are, too."

"No, it's not… Someone approached me right before the attack. He said he wanted me to join a 'party' he and his friends throwing. He then implied that there was a way to bring down All Might… I don't know if they were working with that Trigger dealer, but they know the same circles."

"How could you tell?" This was serious, then. If there was overlap between all these groups, then what was the common thread? It had to be more than just a spike in villain activity.

"'A league onto their own.' A familiar phrase, right?" It was the phrase that dealer had said over Mic's show. "The dealer and this guy both phrased it exactly like that."

"There's an organization to it all, then." That meant more work, and it also meant more danger. Gangs and groups were one thing, but organized villainy to the extent of what happened at USJ… Shota couldn't help but feel that those villains he had seen in the center of it all had something to do with it. The man covered in hands and the _monster_ that had almost defeated All Might.

"I should have accepted that offer." _That_ had him startling, Mic's voice flat and serious, "I should have accepted so I could have been there. I could have- Shit, I could have _done_ something. There's a chance you wouldn't have been hurt so bad if I was _there_ -"

"And there's a chance that nothing would have changed," Shota said, cutting him off before he could spiral into whatever dark thoughts were picking away at him. "Your appearance _could_ have made a difference, but then you'd be in a jail cell for longer than a week. Besides, I'm fine."

The movement was slow and cautious, but Shota still found himself unable to react as Mic's hand settled on his cheek, a rough and calloused thumb brushing against the scar that was now under his right eye. "You, my hero, are in no way fine," Mic said softly, voice quiet and wrecked. "You could have died."

"I…" He had done his best not to think about it. Shota had been doing his absolute best not to think about it, but… he really could have. It was nothing short of a miracle and his own stubbornness that he was still here. "And leave you to run rampant? I'd be a poor hero, in that case."

"Mm. I suppose we can't have that." The thumb pressed against the scar for a moment, Mic's skin dragging against his own and causing a new, unfamiliar feeling that had Shota shuddering with a hitch of his breath. "You'll be the end of me, hero."

Mic's voice was as soft and warm as his touch, bright green eyes staring at him with something that Shota was too afraid to even _begin_ to name. As he stared at this man who had called himself a villain and yet proved himself the opposite, Shota couldn't help but realize the truth.

Maybe he would be the end of Mic, but he knew without a doubt that this man would be the end of him.


	10. Chapter 10

If you all thought I wouldn't include Shinsou and the father-son relationship he has with Aizawa then you were _fools_. Also, in reference to the current time line, it is some time in May and the events of Hero Killer Stain and the Intern Week have just concluded.

Remember to check out my tumblr at ibelieveinahappilyeverafter for ways to support me, more writing, and posts about what future stories I'll be doing!

Enjoy!

* * *

' _What do I do when I have a problem I don't know how to solve?_ ' Hizashi stared down at the text he had just sent, a bitter laugh leaving him as he shoved his phone away, not bothering to wait for Suzuki's response. He was a mess… He couldn't even solve his own problems without turning to ask his teenage co-worker. How pathetic.

What might have been more pathetic, though, was how he didn't hesitate to jerk his headphones off to answer his phone when it showed she was calling him. He might have hesitated if he had realized how late it was, though. " _Yamada. It is two in the morning and we open tomorrow. Give me one good reason to not find your ass and kick it._ "

"Because otherwise you'd be the one stuck coming in early and making the cat muffins," Hizashi shot back, trying to force cheer and charm into his voice. It was easier to do when he was dressed in the familiar leather outfit that had become a part of 'Present Mic.' "Suzuki-chan, you didn't have to call me!"

" _Yeah, but if I deal with this now, then I don't have to deal with it in the morning when not enough coffee in the world can make your voice pleasant. So, come on, then, let's get it out there. What's this problem you don't know how to solve? Is it something to do with your hero crush?_ "

Hizashi could never let her know just how right her guess was. Taking a breath, Hizashi tried to sort his thoughts out into words that would make sense, instead of the screams and shrieks that had been filling his head. "It's… It's a bit complicated, Suzuki-chan, but a lot of it has to deal with how I think I made a mistake."

" _Wait, are we still talking about your hero crush? Because, I mean, you're making a mistake in how you won't just talk to the guy, but this actually sounds serious. Holy shit, you know how to be serious?_ "

"It's not as fun as it sounds," Hizashi muttered, managing to barely hold back his bitterness from slipping through. "It's not about my hero crush." At least, not this part of it. "I've been doing some… side work. It was fun, at first, and I thought I was managing to get the attention I needed to do some good with it, but now I'm starting to doubt this was the right plan."

" _Uh huh. Is this side work like the type of side work that I need to find some bail money for you? If you're in jail right now, then I'm not covering your shift tomorrow! I'll make sure Jamie doesn't, either!_ "

"I'm not in jail, Suzuki-chan," Hizashi whined, long and loud and annoying to cover up the skipped beat of his heart. Suzuki was too smart by half, some days. "It's nothing illegal." That part was a lie, but it was for the greater good. "It was just something that was supposed to help, but now I feel like it's only caused trouble."

Hizashi had been careful when he had first planned this. Present Mic had been made to call attention to the shadows where the scum that were monsters, not villains but worse, were hidden. Loud, flashy, and impossible to ignore, Present Mic had been a plan to call the heroes' attention to just what they had let slip through the cracks. He wanted to show the world, through force if necessary, that the heroes were useless at what they did.

The police were corrupted, teenagers were dragged out of their homes and schools and forced into work they didn't want to do, adults were killed in back alleyways for a few hundred yen, and children were abandoned and locked up like they were cattle to be passed around. It was hell. The system had done good, but there were places like this that were _abandoned_.

There was no way that Hizashi would ever be a hero, and in this world, vigilantes were overlooked as much as the underground heroes. The only way to get attention was to be a pro hero, or… to be a villain. It had been the perfect plan, but instead of capturing the attention of others, it was _his_ attention that had been captured.

" _Well, are you sure it caused trouble? You said you were trying to do good, right? You must have done some good - I mean, you're a sickeningly good person, Yamada_." No, he really wasn't. " _You feed your lunch to the strays outside and I know for a fact you cover the cost of people who have a hard time paying for coffee or food._ "

"That's just common decency," Hizashi sighed before frowning at Suzuki's scoff. "This job has done nothing _but_ cause trouble." He had maybe helped a few people on accident, but mostly he had just caused so much _trouble_ when he had become more focused on getting Eraserhead's attention over the media. No, it wasn't even Eraserhead he was trying to get to look at him. It was _Aizawa_ who he wanted to look. "A part of me wants to stop it, but I don't know if I can."

" _If it's causing you this much stress then I say drop it_." From the mouths of babes, hm? Everything was so simple to someone like Suzuki who was young and bright and had grown up in the age of All Might. " _It can't be worth it, can it?_ "

"I think it is." Hizashi had grown up without the Symbol of Peace. He had been nineteen when All Might had made his debut and Hizashi remembered the darkness that seemed to cover all of Japan. Even with All Might now around, it seemed like all that darkness had only bled into the places that were already saturated with it. "Or at least, I _thought_ it was." No one had looked, though, and now after everything that was happening in the world…

" _Well, if you think it's good, then keep doing it. I mean, you've seen the news. I think we could all use a little good after those Nomu creatures and that Hero Killer,_ " Suzuki's voice near faded out at the end, Hizashi hearing the tremor in it. " _My sister was there, that day. She told me how terrifying those things were. They weren't human, she said._ "

"No, they weren't," Hizashi muttered, feeling agitation push him to walk faster. It wasn't like he had planned on going anywhere when he had gone on his 'patrol,' but it had become too much of a habit after Aizawa's disappearance. At least now it was a good way to burn off steam. "The Hero Killer wasn't much of a human either, though."

He could understand the man's ideals - Hizashi had the same ones, after all. Shine a spotlight on all the fake heroes out there and force them to see just what was happening behind the flash of the cameras that were trained on them. The way Stain had gone about it, though, had been horrifying.

Hizashi wasn't innocent. There was no way to be innocent after growing up the way he had, bounced around from one house to the next and often escaping into alleyways and dark buildings in the dead of night to try and pretend he was anywhere else. He wasn't innocent, but he had never let himself become a killer.

The system was broken, but there were good heroes in the world. Maybe they had the wrong ideals, some days, but none of them deserved to be killed for doing a job that involved helping and protecting people. The Nomu, on the other hand… Hizashi didn't know what to think about those. There was no doubt a connection to the 'league' he had been hearing about, but that didn't answer the question of what they were.

" _Hey, you're not walking around the streets this late at night, are you? You know that's dangerous - especially with all this stuff going on!_ "

"Aw, are you worried about me, Suzuki-chan?" Hizashi cooed, amused that she knew _that_ many swears. "I'm just getting some fresh air, no worries. I'll be in at work bright and early tomorrow. I'll even sing for you, if you want!"

" _I would rather face off against one of those monsters._ " Suzuki was silent for long enough that Hizashi was starting to wonder if she had hung up before he heard a soft sigh. " _For what it's worth, I think you're a good guy, Yamada. Whatever you're doing, well…_ " Suzuki fell silent, voice soft and childish as she finished, " _I bet it's pretty heroic._ "

A quick goodbye and the call ended, Hizashi left staring ahead as he slowly lowered his phone, insides feeling like they were squirming around like snakes. Heroic. She had called him _heroic_. It was the greatest joke that he had been told throughout his life.

 _Such a villainous quirk… Who would ever make you a hero?_

 _He'd be a fine hero… But that quirk- It's just so_ _ **destructive**_ _._

 _It just scares me. That voice of his is so_ _ **loud**_ _. He never listens. It's such a problem. Really, how could he save anyone when all he seems to do is_ _ **hurt**_ _people?_

 _So clumsy._

 _He has no control…_

 _He won't_ _ **shut up**_ _!_

 _Let's make sure that nasty quirk of yours can't harm the other children._

No, Hizashi had never been heroic, and yet here was this seventeen-year-old girl who thought he _was_. It was the worst joke of them all, and yet the words wouldn't stop playing through his head, warm and soft and stubborn and sounding as if they could be _true_.

"Heroic, huh." Tucking his phone away, Hizashi slid his headphones back on and took a moment to suck in a shuddering breath. "Then what was the _point_?"

"-just muzzle the damn kid, already! The Boss could make a fortune with a quirk like this one." The words were on the edge of his hearing, but Hizashi heard them anyways, direction changing at once to one of the alleyways that had a near hidden entrance.

It was one of the alleyways that no one wanted to be caught in at night, a straight line to a dead end that couldn't be climbed or passed. It was a wall that had a kid pressed against it, entire body tensed and coiled and ready to fight back. His eyes, though, had nothing but fear as a man stepped forward with a _muzzle_.

"Yo, yo, what kind of party do we have going on over here!" Hizashi projected his voice and gave a beaming grin as all eyes turned towards him. Good. That meant they weren't looking at the kid.

"What the hell do you want?" One of the men activated his quirk, fingers stretching and narrowing into sharp talons that looked sharp as knife tips. Hizashi couldn't tell in the dark, but it almost looked like there was dried blood on them. "Get out of here if you know what's good for you."

"Oi, oi, there's no need to be so rude," Hizashi laughed, the sound edged with as close to a cackle as he could get before he shoved his hands into his pockets and strolled forward like he didn't have a care in the world. "And you had better put your little claws away before you find them broken off."

"What did you say you fucking-" One of the others, this one with a bull mutation quirk, stopped the guy and narrowed his eyes at Hizashi.

"You're Present Mic." Mm, that was more like it. "You helped take down some of the Drake gang, didn't you?" Ah, rival gangs. How boring.

"They were annoying me," Hizashi shrugged, motions loose and wide as he kept himself balanced even as he walked, ready to run forward or backward depending on what happened. "You never answered. What's the deal with the kid? Looks a little scrawny for you all."

"It's none of your fucking business," the one with talons snarled, the third member of the little group quickly shaking his head.

"Be chill, man, this is the guy that's always going up against Eraserhead and coming out alive from it." Behind them, Hizashi saw the kid straighten, eyes widening the smallest amount. Interesting.

The kid looked young - no older than fourteen or fifteen. He was dressed in some sort of jumpsuit that didn't look like the average clothing choice for someone his age, and he had wild purple hair and deep bags under equally purple eyes. He seemed to know Eraserhead, though. Hm. This was turning out to be interesting.

"No need to worry, Present Mic, we're not gonna hurt him much." The last word had Hizashi tensing up at the same time as the kid. "He's just a random to get that hero scum you're always dealing with off our back." Yet they were talking about selling the kid- Wait.

"Eraserhead?" Fuck. This kid seemed to know Eraserhead, so that likely meant that Aizawa knew who this kid was. Hizashi was starting to get a knack for stumbling into trouble, it felt like. "Well, now you got my attention."

"Thought we might." The man with the bull mutation laughed, loud and overpowering, and Hizashi caught a glimpse of a black tongue that was the calling sign of a Trigger user. He felt like punching himself because now he _really_ had gotten himself into trouble, but, well… The kid looked scared. "We just need to put a muzzle on him and then we'll be on our way."

Eyes darting to the muzzle, Hizashi's mind worked quick before he was throwing out a mocking laugh, "I know your gang's style and subduing people isn't your MO, is it? You probably don't even know how to _use_ that thing." The silence was all the answer he needed and he thanked whatever gods were listening. "C'mon, then. Hand it over and I'll muzzle the kid."

"And how do we know you aren't just gonna take him? Kid has a good quirk and we could get some money out of him." What a suspicious little bastard. Hizashi hated that he had to wait before kicking their asses.

"You think I care about some kid with, what? A type of voice quirk?" The quick nod by one of them had him fighting off a shudder of revulsion. They wanted to muzzle a fucking _kid_. How fucked up did they have to be?

 _There we go. All nice and silent. Isn't that better, Hizashi?_

"Please," Hizashi scoffed, striding forward and snatching the muzzle with a smirk. "It's Eraserhead I'm after. We have some… unfinished business. If this kid can draw him out, then what's the harm in hanging around for a while?"

"Be my guest." This guy was getting kicked the hardest, Hizashi decided. Still, he gave a winning smile as he walked over to the kid, noticing the shaking coming from his shoulders. The poor thing had shoved himself up against the wall as far back as he could go, eyes angry and terrified as they narrowed at him. He didn't look like he was bleeding, but he certainly looked banged up.

"Yeah, yeah, glare all you want, kid, but you'll sit still if you know what's good for you." Crouching down, Hizashi glanced back at the men, raising an eyebrow. "Oi, oi, keep an eye on the fucking entryway and rooftops. Eraserhead isn't going to be announcing his presence." As soon as the three glanced away, Hizashi dropped the muzzle as silently as possible, swiping his headphones off and holding them in front of him so only the kid could see them.

"Alright, kid, stay fucking still if you know what's good for you," Hizashi laughed, loud and flashy just as he needed it to be. The second his laugh ended, he dropped his expression and looked the kid in the eyes. "Stay quiet, okay? I'm going to get you out of this, but you need to do what I say. Nod if you understand." There was a second where the kid looked shocked before he was quickly nodding.

"Good, okay, you're doing fine. You're doing great." Hizashi lifted the headphones, carefully fitting them over the other's ears as he kept talking. From the angle he was at, it would look like he was using the muzzle. "You're going to be okay. I promise you that I won't let that fucking muzzle touch you, okay? I have a voice quirk, too, and I'm going to use it on these guys. I need you to hide behind that dumpster, though, okay? The one right beside us to your left. I need you to hide there and not come out until I give you a signal, got it?"

This kid definitely knew Aizawa with the way he calmly nodded, shifting just enough to not draw attention, but ready to leap behind the dumpster at a moment's notice. Hizashi smiled, feeling anxiety clawing at him as he started taking deep breaths.

"Hey! You got that muzzle on him or not, yet!" Looking at the kid, Hizashi gave him a wink as he flipped his hearing aids out, sucking in a deep breath as he did so. As soon as his lungs were filled to the brim, he nodded. The kid scrambled away the same moment Hizashi jumped up, turned on his heel, and _screamed_.

Hizashi didn't bother giving them the chance to try and fight back. All three of them collapsed at once, clutching at their ears and no doubt screaming as they started twitching on the ground. One of them threw up, but Hizashi didn't stop until he was certain all three of them were unconscious and unlikely to move again anytime soon. His ears were ringing and the walls that made up the alleyway looked a little more crumbled, but Hizashi was at least satisfied that they wouldn't be getting up anytime soon.

There was bleeding coming from the ears of all three gang members, Hizashi kicking the muzzle towards them as he put his hearing aids back in. If they were lucky, they might even have some hearing left over after this.

Hizashi usually tried to hold back on his quirk and keep it from causing any permanent damage, but they had just tried to muzzle a fucking _kid_ , so he could probably be forgiven for that one.

Glancing to the dumpster and fiddling with his hearing aids, Hizashi tensed and spun on his heel when he heard footsteps. He didn't even manage to fully suck in a breath for a scream when he saw Aizawa staring at him and looking as startled and surprised as he felt.

"Mic?" Aizawa looked like he was going to say more before he sharply shook his head, stepping over the collapsed bodies. "Have you seen a teenager? Fifteen, black clothing, purple hair and violet eyes, pale skin, bags under his eyes." The words were still a little muffled, Hizashi frowning as he fiddled with his hearing aids. "Mic?"

"Yeah, yeah, I heard you. Give me a moment." Fuck, it would probably take all night for his hearing to return properly.

"Where are your headphones?" Aizawa frowned, Hizashi almost cooing when he saw the man's worry over _him_. "Why did you use your quirk without your headphones?"

"They were already in use, _hero_ ," Hizashi chirped, walking over to give the dumpster two quick kicks. A moment later and the kid poked his head out from the small space he had crammed himself into, tugging the headphones down to rest around his neck as he gave a smirk.

"I didn't know you were into screamers, Sensei." A million emotions seemed to cross over Aizawa's face, but it seemed to freeze on annoyance. That was probably Hizashi's fault for bursting into laughter, but that was _hilarious_.

"Don't forget I can give you detention, brat." Aizawa looked at them both before turning to look at the unconscious gang members. "What the hell happened?"

"Just a couple of assholes-"

"Language, Shinsou."

"Just a couple of assholes, _sir_ ," the kid, Shinsou, shot back, tension in his shoulders starting to drain as Aizawa walked over to them. "I'm okay, though. Your vigilante friend or whatever helped me out."

"Oi, kid, I'm a villain, not a vigilante," Hizashi frowned, catching his headphones with a little tsk when Shinsou threw them at him.

"No, you're really not." This little brat. He was like a clone copy of Aizawa. Actually, they really did look alike…

" _Eraser_ head." Hizashi shot his gaze to Aizawa, the other startling at his sudden volume. "Why didn't you tell me you had a _child_?!"

"I have a _what_?" Aizawa stared at him with pure and honest shock and panic. It was the most open expression Hizashi had ever seen from him and it was the most amazing moment of his life so far. "In what way does this brat look like my kid!"

Hizashi shot his gaze to Shinsou, the teen looking like he wanted to say some cheeky remark before he thought better of it, biting his lip. It was a familiar gesture that had Hizashi giving a loud laugh in his place, "C'mon, Eraser, don't be so cruel to your son. You can trust me!"

There was a long silence where Aizawa seemed to be contemplating the best way to murder him before Shinsou was giving a small, quiet laugh, "I'm really not his kid. I'm more his… mentee, I guess? Sidekick? Intern? We're kind of doing a late intern week thing."

"He's my student," Aizawa rolled his eyes, setting a hand on Shinsou's head. The teen seemed to lean into the contact, Aizawa's lips twitching into a smile. "This is Shinsou Hitoshi."

"Nice to meet you, little listener! I'm the one and only Voice Villain Present Mic!" The two gave him the same deadpan stare, Hizashi trying not to laugh. "Are you sure you two aren't related at least a little?"

"Sensei is training me to get into the hero course at U.A.," Shinsou said, looking like he wanted to roll his eyes. Hizashi was honestly surprised he could resist since he seemed to carry the same uncaring attitude as Suzuki did. "Apparently I 'have the motivation but lack the necessary skills.' I think that was his way of saying I suck, but I have promise."

"Which you do," Aizawa said. He _did_ roll his eyes, looking as if he was used to the self-deprecating tone Shinsou had. "It's no small feat to make it to the one-on-one battles in the Sports Festival, especially as a first year."

"You were in the Sports Festival?" Hizashi wracked his brain, thinking back to the event. That had been when he had first caught a glimpse of Aizawa on the news when they had been broadcasting. He had not only learned that the school the man worked at was U.A., but he had also learned that Aizawa had looked near death and that had only caused Hizashi to worry _more_ , but he remembered the students who had made it to the final battle rounds. Shinsou Hitoshi… Oh! "Right, right! You were the one with the brainwashing quirk!"

Hizashi saw both of them tense and he knew exactly why. There was more than one person in the world who had grown up hearing that they had a villain's quirk. Softening his smile, Hizashi looked at Shinsou without any trace of fear. It was hard to be afraid when looking into a mirror, after all.

"Your quirk is amazing, Shinsou-kun." There it was… The teen looked at him with wide eyes and a hitch of his breath. "You did great in the Sports Festival, too! It's not an easy thing to make it that far, I bet. And you could do so many _good_ things with that quirk!" Because it was his quirk. Not a villain's, not a hero's, not a vigilante's, but a quirk that belonged to Shinsou and Shinsou alone. "You're going to be an amazing hero one day."

Hizashi was almost afraid that the teen was going to end up crying, because he knew that _he_ would start crying if he had been told that at fifteen. Instead, though, the kid gave him a bright, beaming smile with wet eyes, "I'm going to be the number one underground hero."

"Those are some big shoes to fill, but you seem to be well on your way since you have the current number one training you," Hizashi grinned, giving a wink at Aizawa. For a moment, Hizashi could almost fool himself into thinking that the man had blushed. "So, then, Eraser. Off to jail with me?"

"Hm? Why? I didn't see you do anything against the law." Aizawa took out his phone, looking bored. "I do need to call the police to pick up these three, though."

"Yeah, kind of weird they collapsed out of nowhere," Shinsou nodded, the two of them having the exact same grin. Hizashi was certain that they had to be related at least a _little_ bit.

"You might want to get out of here, though," Aizawa said quietly, face going back to being blank, but amusement hidden in his eyes. "That police captain seems to have it out for you."

"Alright, alright, I'm going," Hizashi pouted, glancing to Shinsou. Hm. He _would_ have tried to flirt with Aizawa a little more, but he didn't want to traumatize the kid too badly. "See you later, _hero_. And I expect you to be out kicking ass one day, _herolet_!"

"That's not a word even in English," Aizawa complained, unable to keep the sour attitude up in the light of Shinsou's laugh. Hizashi couldn't blame him. The kid looked like he didn't laugh very often.

"See ya later, Voice Vigilante." Cheeky brat. He was going to be a great hero.

It wasn't until hours later, long after Hizashi had climbed into bed under ratty blankets with Snowball purring loud enough that he could hear even with his hearing aids out, that Hizashi realized what he had done.

Somehow, against all odds, Hizashi had used his quirk and had ended up _saving_ someone. A quirk that was destructive and dangerous and meant for a villain, and he had used it to protect a kid and keep him safe. It…

It felt good.


	11. Chapter 11

Woo! That was quite a long break between chapters - sorry about that! I've been busy with school, trying to get some money until my first paycheck comes in, and also this crazy polar vortex we got going on! Here's the next chapter, though, and hopefully you all enjoy it. We finally get to see Mic interacting with 1-A!

Remember to check me out on tumblr at ibelieveinahappilyeverafter for updates on my writing, little bonus scenes for this story, and a whole lot more.

Enjoy!

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"How difficult would it be to quit my position at U.A.?" Shota was asking the question as soon as he heard the tone on the other end of his phone that signaled his call had been answered. A moment of silence followed, Shota not bothering to fill it. Eventually, there was a long, tired sigh that echoed with static.

" _What did your kids do this time?_ " It was with a vicious sort of spiteful pleasure that Shota realized Nemuri sounded as exhausted as he had been feeling over the last few weeks. " _And no, you can't quit. Nezu would never allow you and you know it._ "

"They blew up a couch." Shota stared at where the small group of 1-A students were profusely apologizing to the store owner that was now minus a piece of furniture. "Bakugo and Todoroki both are still at the school."

" _Then how… No, I don't want to know. Asking questions about your kids just gives me more headaches. You're almost done, aren't you? You know we have curfews, now._ "

"I'm well aware of the new safety measures, Nemuri." Shota didn't want to admit he was bitter about the ripple effects caused by 'the end of All Might,' but, well… Villains had come crawling out of the woodwork, his students had all been moved into dorms on campus, and he was now stuck on campus any moment he wasn't out on patrol. "We should be done and on our way back, soon."

" _Good. I don't want to explain why you and a bunch of kids went missing when you went out to get a few rugs and towels. Honestly, Shota, you give in so easily to your kids._ " Nemuri's tone was warm and teasing and close to giggles. Shota did his best to ignore it.

"They're not my kids." With that, Shota hung up and slipped his phone back into one of his pouches, looking to where Kirishima, Midoriya, and Kaminari were bowing to the store owner with apologetic faces. He could only be grateful that not _all_ of his problem children had come along.

"Would I get in trouble if I used my quirk to get them to shut up and behave?" At the tired drawl, Shota glanced to where Shinsou was staring at the students and looking as exhausted as Shota felt.

"Yes, but I might pretend I didn't notice anything depending on whether or not they can learn from their mistakes," Shota said simply, pleased to see that Tenya was scolding the other students and getting them back into a group while doing a headcount at the same time.

While it had been odd to become the homeroom teacher to the kid he had helped his friend babysit for the last fifteen years, it was nice to see that Tenya was respectful as always. It also helped that he never called him Shota-nii unless there were no other students around and they were safely out of school.

"So I'll end up brainwashing at least three of them by the end of the day, then." Patting at Shinsou's shoulder, Shota hid his smile in his capture weapon as the teen was soon dragged away by Kaminari and Midoriya. Shinsou wasn't a part of the heroics course, yet, but the rest of the class seemed to assume it was only a matter of time. It no doubt encouraged them when Shota didn't bother to deny any of their speculations.

Technically Shinsou should have stayed at the school since he had moved into the General Education dorms the second the opportunity had presented itself, but Shota already had a partial sort of custody over Shinsou due to their training. Besides, his homeroom teacher was Nemuri, which helped immensely when it came to dragging Shinsou away for training.

Shaking himself out of his thoughts, Shota pulled his phone out to glance at the time and mentally swore when he realized just how late it was getting. It didn't help matters when he glanced outside and saw just how far away from the school their shopping trip had taken them.

"Alright, enough." Shota interrupted whatever argument was going on now, a quick use of Erasure quieting the students down at once. "Go make your final purchases and meet outside at the front of the store in ten minutes. If you're not back by that time then you'll be on dorm cleaning duty for two weeks."

He barely finished before the kids were scrambling apart and running to different parts of the store, Tenya running after the ones most likely to make trouble while Shinsou yawned and stayed where he was.

"Why did you bother to come when you weren't going to buy anything?" In response, Shinsou held up a small bag that was stuffed with candy bars, energy drinks, and canned coffee. Shota could relate.

"How's everything with your vigilante?" At Shinsou's question, Shota slowly raised his eyebrows. The teenager looked utterly unmoved. "Present Mic, right?"

"He's fine, as far as I know." The real question, though, was why Shinsou was asking about Present Mic now of all times. "Why?"

"Curious," Shinsou shrugged, shuffling closer bit by bit so he was standing near Shota again. "He patrols around here, doesn't he?"

Hm. Shota should probably let Shinsou know that Mic wasn't _actually_ a vigilante and the man had been telling the truth when claiming to be a villain. "He does. I figured going to a less know portion of town might give us more peace than if we were to go in the busier areas, though."

Shinsou nodded, silently trailing after him as he went to wait outside for the rest of the students to show up. Koda and Tsuyu, it seemed, were already there and waiting, Jiro strolling out a moment later. Now it was Tenya and the three problem children of the day that they were waiting on, it seemed.

"Hey, Sensei." Shinsou was hardly loud enough to hear, Shota glancing down to him as the other students chatted and compared purchases. "Next time you see him, could you pass on my thanks for last time?"

"Sure, kid." Shota wasn't sure what to feel at realizing Mic had somehow managed to charm Shinsou, but there was definitely some amusement there. Probably. "Might be a while, though. I haven't seen him in almost a month."

Between the League of Villains, All Might's defeat, Shinsou's after school training, the ruined summer training camp, and a dozen other things, it felt like Shota had barely managed to find enough time to breathe, let alone check in on Mic. He wasn't willing to admit how much the lack of talking to the 'villain' was getting to him, though.

Starting back to the school as soon as all his kids were in front of him, Shota didn't even get ten minutes of peace before a glass window was shattered as a body flew out of it. Shota was proud at how every single one of his students fell into a defensive stance, ready to _run_ instead of fight. Maybe he was getting through to them.

"Looks like it won't be a while, after all." Frowning at Shinsou's words, Shota studied the body that had flown through the window of what seemed to be a bar and tried to resist the urge to groan or break out into a pleased smile at seeing just who it was. Ugh, that trope of absence making the heart fonder might have truth to it and Shota _hated_ it.

"Oi, pay attention," Shota called back to his students, deciding this would make a good teaching moment. "Fighting without a pro hero license is illegal for many different reasons, but it also makes the job of other pros harder as they end up working with unknown quirks and personalities. Those fighting also don't have access to the proper training or supplies that pro heroes need now and days."

"Did you just make him into an example?" Shinsou muttered, Shota placing a hand on the teen's head and tilting his head down. He tried not to show how pleased he was by the snort of laughter - it had taken months for Shinsou to warm up enough to speak to him normally, let alone ask questions. It was harder to hide his smile when Mic realized who was talking, eyes getting wide before he was jumping up and _beaming_.

"Eraser!" Shota easily dodged the attempt at a hug, binding cloth snapping out to wrap around Mic and pin him in place as he gave him a glare. Mic's smile only got wider and it was a struggle to hide the urge to smile back. "Fancy seeing you around here, _hero_."

"Um, Sensei?" Glancing back to his students, he saw Tsuyu was looking curious, the others still on edge. "Who is this?"

"Aw, you have a bunch of little ducklings!" At the loud exclamation, Shota felt no shame in tightening the cloth until Mic gave him a squeaking cough and a betrayed look. It immediately vanished when he saw Shinsou. "Ah! Hey there, _herolet_!"

"That's still not a word," Shota grumbled, looking back to Tsuyu. "This is an idiot who you don't need to worry about. If we're lucky, he'll go away, and I won't have to worry about whatever trouble he's caused now."

"Is he a pro hero?" Kirishima asked, raising his hand as if afraid Shota would yell at him if he didn't. It was a good instinct.

"No." Mic was the one to answer, a complicated expression on his face even as he smiled. "I'm not a hero."

"Maybe he's a vigilante," Kaminari suggested, Shota letting Mic go and returning his weapon to its resting position.

"Close enough." The word villain would only set the kids into a frenzy, considering the last few weeks. "Oi, Mic." Waiting until he had the man's attention, Shota glanced back to the bar. "Is that something I have to worry about?"

"Ah, no, no, they were just being grumpy, was all. I'll take care of it later, if they're still causing a mess!" Mic's bright smile made Shota want to squint by reflex.

"Aizawa-sensei, shouldn't we be getting back to the school?" Looking to Tenya, Shota threw a glance at his phone and did his best to hide a wince.

"We should. Come on. If any of you try to run off then don't bother showing up for class anymore." Shota wasn't sure if he was proud or irritated when none of his students looked the least bit terrified as they trailed after him down the sidewalk.

They managed to get two blocks in before Shota noticed that Mic was trailing after them, the students looking like they weren't sure if they should talk to him or not. Shota decided to do it for them, "Mic. Why are you following my class?"

"I'm here as back-up!" Mic beamed, looking as if there wasn't anything wrong with a _villain_ following a bunch of hero students. "What if you were attacked by a villain, after all? It's a very sensitive climate, right now, _Aizawa-sensei_." Never had Shota felt as great an urge to punch someone as he did in that moment.

"Oi, listen up." Waiting until every student was looking at him, Shota nodded. "If he irritates you, feel free to punch him or use your quirks. I don't care." Ignoring the sudden increase in loud and annoying voices, Shota turned back to lead them along, effectively blocking out whatever question was thrown at him.

He made sure to glance back every block or so, just to make sure none of them were doing anything stupid. Three blocks into their walk back to the school was all it took for Kirishima and Kaminari to question Mic about what it was like to be a hero that wasn't licensed. It was amusing to see Mic's panic as he tried to tell the truth without letting them know who he really was.

Four blocks in Jiro was looking as if she was trying to place who Mic was while Midoriya was rambling on about voice quirks - which was the only thing Mic had told them without giving any specifics. Shota made a mental note to get Midoriya more work revolving around quirk theory and study. The teen would have made a great quirk analyzer if he hadn't made it into the hero course.

Five blocks and Iida and Tsuyu had joined in on Midoriya's ramblings about voice quirks, Mic looking a mix of uncomfortable and intrigued at the rapid pace of information about the pros and cons of voice quirks. Shota resolved to stop the conversation the next time he glanced back, but instead he saw Mic and Koda using sign language at a quick pace, Koda looking absolutely delighted when Mic was able to keep up with him with ease.

Shota supposed it made sense for Mic to know sign language considering his quirk and his own hearing problems. He made a note to ask about when he had learned in case it ever came up in conversation.

They were almost out of the rougher parts of the area when Shota glanced back one last time to see Shinsou was talking to Mic quietly, rubbing at the back of his neck and awkwardly avoiding any possibility of eye contact. Shota couldn't hear what Mic said, but Shinsou looked a lot more relaxed when the man finished talking and gave him a reassuring smile. Somehow, Shota couldn't find himself to be surprised at the fact Mic was good with kids.

"Well, little listeners, it seems like you're in safe hands with Eraserhead watching over you!" There were quiet gasps from Midoriya and Jiro at Mic's loud words. Shota resolved to not worry about it unless it involved him. "Think you'll be alright getting back to the school, _hero_?"

"It'll probably be easier without you distracting my students every block," Shota snorted, hiding his face in his scarf as Mic strolled up to throw an arm over his shoulders.

"Aw, don't be like that, Eraser!" Before Shota could decide whether to throw Mic's arm off or throw him over his shoulder completely, there was something being pressed into his hands. "For you, _hero_. That last fight of yours was nasty enough to actually end up on camera, for once."

It took a moment, but Shota blinked at realizing he was holding a pair of yellow goggles that looked just like his old ones - his old ones which had been shattered in his last villain fight a few nights ago. The goggles were an exact replica of his old ones right down to the way the strap was reinforced with the same material as his binding cloth.

"I had a favor I was able to cash in," Mic explained softly, Shota glancing up to see the man giving him a small, genuine smile. The smile quickly turned sly as he gave Shota a wink, murmuring an almost inaudible, "Now you'll have something to remember me by on those nights we don't see each other."

A quick, cheerful goodbye to the students and Mic was gone as quick as he had arrived, Shota staring down at the goggles in his hands as if they would suddenly gain the ability to talk and explain why Shota felt like his heart was going to beat right out of his chest.

There was no way he actually… He didn't even know the man's _name_ , yet he still… So much for getting over his _thing_ when it came to Present Mic. No, if anything, it was now certainly more than just a few tangled feelings.

"Uh, sir?" Dragging his gaze away from the goggles, Shota looked to where Jiro had her hand half-raised into the air. "Wasn't that Present Mic? You know, the Voice _Villain_."

 _Fuck_.


	12. Chapter 12

So, I'm basically falling asleep at my keyboard, but I was _so excited_ to finish this chapter up and give it to you guys, so I hope you enjoy it. If you want, I recommend re-reading the first few paragraphs of Chapter 2 to give this first scene even more reason to crush your heart.

Remember... blah blah blah... tumblr... ibelieveinahappilyeverafter!

Enjoy!

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"Snowball… I did something very stupid." There was a loud, echoing meow from the cat in his lap that near vibrated the air, Hizashi absently realizing that Snowball was getting to be bigger than some small dogs. It was comforting, more than anything, to have that heavy weight pressing him down and pinning him firmly to the moment. "It's stupider than when I decided to become a villain."

The cat settled back down in his lap for a long nap, Hizashi staring down at where his fingers were buried into dense white fur. The longer he stared, the more it felt like there was a delay between his fingers and the way they were scratching at the purring cat. "I did something really, really stupid…"

It had been a joke or, perhaps more accurately, it had just been another part of the game. A silly little game of hero and villain. Aizawa had been more accurate than he had realized. It had been easy, in the beginning. Easy to play along to the silent hero and the loud villain. A way to garner attention by having a hero defeat him night after night. That was how it was supposed to go.

Present Mic was supposed to get louder and louder until the entire world could hear his screams, but instead he just got quieter and quieter, words only loud enough for one person - for one _hero_. Hizashi had just ran along with it because it was fun, and it didn't harm anyone. Present Mic flirted, Eraserhead rolled his eyes, and at the end of the night, it was just an exaggeration of the admiration he felt when he realized how much of a hero Aizawa really was.

So when did that change? When did loud flirtations turn into soft admiration that he couldn't even hide from himself? When had Eraserhead's short temper turned into an endless patience? When had those prickly glares turned into hidden smiles that Hizashi _worked_ so hard to _earn_? When had his plan of getting attention changed into only getting Aizawa's attention?

"I really screwed this one up, Snowball." Hizashi curled in on himself, as if making himself smaller would somehow make the pain feel less. "I wasn't supposed to actually care about a hero."

Countless months of being chased, long nights of running around like children without a curfew, stolen moments where truth was given freely instead of forced out, endless seconds where softer looks were traded for warm smiles, and a heartbeat's worth of care traded between each moment and the next every time eyes met.

Yamada Hizashi knew well what this feeling was. He had never felt it as strong as he did now, but what else could it be? Whenever he was around him, Hizashi found his shaking hands slowing like all his nerves were being sealed away, his heart calming like the beats of a worn lullaby, and his words falling still and silent in the realization that they weren't needed. He had known the stirrings of this feeling when he was younger and didn't know the world as well, but now a comfortable thirty-one, he knew this… was real.

Hizashi was honestly in love with the man known as Aizawa and no one could warn him otherwise. Every waking thought seemed to be filled with that rough, quiet, and kind man that was always quick to save those who needed it. It was like Hizashi could think of nothing else these days.

"Oh, Snowball." Hizashi pulled his knees up and sucked in an unsteady breath, flinching when a hard, scratchy tongue licked at his cheek, worried meows tumbling through the air a moment later. "I really screwed this all up, didn't I?"

After all, a villain in love with a hero?

What a joke.

::

"Oi, oi, take it easy, here. I was just in the neighborhood and got a bit curious!" Present Mic raised his hands and looked away with a little click of his tongue. "It's like you lot can't tell villains apart, these days."

"Way I hear it, you're not much of a villain these days, Present Mic." At the rough growl, Hizashi tried to figure out just how he had ended up in the situation he was now trapped in. "More of a vigilante, I hear. Is that what you are, wannabe hero?"

"Didn't your mother ever teach you not to call people slurs?" Hizashi drawled, shoving his hands in his pockets and trying to look like he was unaffected by the guns that were being aimed at him - at least, the guns that weren't already being aimed at the group of civilians pressed against the wall. "You know this is a shit bank, don't you? They don't even carry large amounts of cash."

"Why don't you shut your mouth, hero, before someone gets hurt?" The ringleader of the group, or at least, Hizashi assumed it was the ringleader, sounded one step away from crazy.

"How boring. It's nothing but a bank robbery," Hizashi pouted, moving around the room with casual boredom. The guns remained trained on him and Hizashi did his absolute best to not show how scared he was. If it was between him and the terrified people who had just gotten off a late shift, though, at least he knew his way around a fight. "Ah, well, I suppose a hero will show up eventually."

"Maybe we should leave it, man," one of them muttered, a man with a mutant quirk that looked like it could be a snake or some other kind of reptile. "This guy's managed to keep up with _Eraserhead_." It was pathetic how Hizashi felt himself perk up at just hearing the man's hero name.

"The way I've been hearing it, the two are working together and Present Mic is just some undercover cop or hero that's been getting information on all of us. _He's_ the reason the streets are so empty, these days." Well, he had given a helping hand with his radio show and that Trigger case, but that was about all.

"Oi, oi, wasn't I just saying how there was no need to insult me?" Hizashi kept his tone lax and uncaring, trying to play up like he wasn't scared of anything they could do to him. It was one thing to go up against a couple of gang members in an alleyway, but it was another to do it in a place where he couldn't use his quirk and there were guns aimed at him. "C'mon, we're all villains, here."

"What do you even want?" The one over by the tellers was shaking, finger pressed against the trigger of the gun rather than the guard. If Hizashi wasn't scared before, he was now. Dealing with bank robbers was bad enough, but it was another matter entirely when some of them looked like they had never used a gun in their life before. "If you're after our money-!"

"Hey, hey, no worries," Hizashi raised his hands again as a gesture of peace, working his way to where a terrified bank teller had been putting money in a duffle bag. "If you've heard of me then you know I'm not interested in money and I could give less of a shit about getting a share of it."

Twelve civilians with one of them being a girl that couldn't be older than seven or eight. There were two tellers, one tied up and the other shaking and looking between Hizashi and the man who had been talking. The windows were broken, so that was one thing that could work in their favor, and… ah, there it was. An emergency button under the teller desk that would call the police to the bank's location in a heartbeat.

"As for why I'm actually here, well." Hizashi shrugged, going over to the teller and knocking him to the floor before kicking him in the chest where he should be most protected. He couldn't kick him too lightly, but he did his best to be as gentle as possible, mouthing a 'stay down' when the man's eyes caught his. "I already said, didn't I?"

Turning back to face them, Hizashi let his fingers brush against the button quick as a flash, pressing it down before giving his best 'villain smile.' "A hero will show up here, eventually. Might as well have some fun with them when they do."

If it was one thing Hizashi could do, it was make himself seem harmless. He had years of practice in making himself seem like he couldn't hurt a fly, and he had just as much practice in playing a room when he needed to.

" _Hey, hey_ , c'mon, listeners, you're talking to Present Mic! I'm the Voice Villain out to show those _heroes_ just why they can't go around acting as high and mighty as they do!" Good. All their attention was on them. "I want to show this world just why this system is as broken as it is, yeah? No need to worry about me stepping on any of your toes, that's for sure."

A tense few minutes passed as the ringleader kept a careful eye on him, instructing the others to gather up all the money and get ready to leave. It was a race against the clock, now, and Hizashi knew that they were running out of time. "-and make sure to take a few of these ones. They'll make good shields, if nothing else."

"Aw, c'mon, man, that'll only piss 'em off even more." Hizashi leaned against a wall and crossed his arms, trying to calm his racing heart as one of the thugs moved towards where the girl and someone who looked like her mother were crouched. The mother looked like she wasn't about to go down without a fight. "'Sides, if you get caught with just the money, it's less time than having a hostage with you."

"Why the fuck do _you_ care? You're just here to fight some heroes, aren't you? Or is it true what they're saying about you being some undercover hero?" Fuck. How long did it take for police to respond to a bank robbery?

"Trust me, I'm the furthest from a hero you can get." They were too enclosed. One shout from him could bring down the whole damn building if he wasn't careful.

"Yeah, well-" The sound of sirens drowned out the words, and Hizashi knew he made a mistake when he felt the relief flash across his face. "I fucking knew it! Fuckin' get rid of him and let's get out of here! Grab the kid, too!"

"You do know you're a walking cliché, don't you? 'Grab the kid?' How much worse can you get?" Think, think, think. His quirk was only good for _screaming_ , but maybe he could just do something like whistle? Shit, there was no time to figure something out like how to use his quirk for _good_.

" _Mommy_!" The shriek of the little girl rang out across the room and Hizashi felt his feet move before he could even think to stop himself, body ramming into the thug who had picked her up, loosening his grip. There was the sound of a gun firing and Hizashi felt the vibrations and physical force of something slamming into his shoulder before he felt the pain of it.

Stomping down on every urge he had to scream, Hizashi gave a good kick to the downed thug's head to make sure he would stay down before pushing the girl back into her mother's arms. He then met the eyes of the leader of this mess, gun aimed at him and ready to fire again. Hizashi couldn't say he had ever been shot, before, and he knew that as soon as the adrenaline ran out, he was in for a world of pain and trouble.

Right now, though, there were people behind him who had done nothing wrong and there was a little girl crying and sobbing. Hizashi knew the type of person he was and, for as much shit as he had gone through, he had never been able to stand the sound of children crying.

As he had told Eraserhead, he was a villain… but he wasn't heartless. "That's the best you got?" This was nothing. After every damn thing in his life, this was _nothing_. "I fight with pro heroes every night and I've been through a lot worse than you and your gang of _children_. So, I'm gonna ask you one more time. Is that the _best you got_?"

He made sure to put just enough of his quirk into his voice to shake the room and have the others stumbling. He made sure not to waste the moment as he moved forward.

It was one thing to fight thugs and gang members in dark alleyways where he was the only one with a chance of getting hurt, but it was utterly terrifying to fight in an old building against people with guns who weren't afraid to use them on innocents who didn't deserve fear like this.

One of them was already down, though, and there were only four altogether. A well-placed punch and kick knocked down another one, and a tackle prevented a bullet from being lodged into his spine from the third that was soon rendered as unconscious as the others.

"I'd say it was a pleasure, Present Mic, but it really wasn't." Too far. He was too far away, and he was exposed, and had it all really led to this? Ah, Aizawa was going to be so disappointed…

The shot rang out, Hizashi froze, and the pain… never came. Slowly, as if looking would somehow cause the bullet to resume its pace and hit him, Hizashi looked and saw the gun was aimed at the ceiling with a familiar grey cloth wrapped around the arm that held it.

"Well, well, fancy seeing you here, _hero_." Hizashi was pleased to see that Eraserhead was wearing the goggles, but the pleasure very quickly vanished when he _felt_ the glare that was turned on him. He was definitely in trouble.

::

"What were you even _thinking_?!" Trouble, Hizashi realized, had not even _begun_ to describe the last hour of his life. "You could have been _killed_." Aizawa had shown up right on time to deal with the last thug, but what happened after was a nightmare that made Hizashi almost feel sorry for pro heroes.

It took an hour, Aizawa, and every civilian and teller inside the bank to convince the police that Hizashi hadn't had any part in the robbery and that he had ended up trying to save them all. The police only grew more pissed when they couldn't even take him in over quirk abuse since Hizashi hadn't _used_ his quirk in the fight - at least, not really.

An hour of talking to the police, dealing with civilians, letting his shoulder be looked over and patched up, and trying to avoid Aizawa, though, ended with Hizashi trapped against the back of an alleyway as the man he had been avoiding tore into him. The only highlight of the night was the little girl and her mother who had thanked him and then… called him their hero.

"Are you even _listening_ to me? Do the words _you could have died_ mean nothing to you? You were _shot_ and-"

"Eraser." Hizashi was shaking. He needed to get out of there before he let anything slip with a mixture of pain meds and an adrenaline crash. "I don't know what you really think about me, but I couldn't just stand there when a little kid was _crying_."

"Which is why you should have left the building immediately and called the police - you could have left after you pressed the alert, even! Instead you stayed and almost got yourself killed for it!"

"Hey, by the time I realized how fucked up it all was, I was already stuck there, okay! Leaving would have only been more suspicious and I was trying not to let _anyone_ get shot-"

"Great job with that one," Aizawa snorted, nodding to where Hizashi's shoulder was still stinging. The pain was only getting worse, and Hizashi wasn't looking forward to when the pain meds wore off. "From the testimonies, it sounds as if you basically ran in front of that bullet."

"It's not like I was trying to get shot." It was close enough to the truth, anyways. He had known that they wouldn't hurt the girl when she was going to basically be a shield for them, but… She had cried and he had just…

"Then _why_ -" It was the same question over and over, but there was really only one answer, wasn't there?

"My body moved on its own before I could think." For the first time that night, Aizawa was quiet. Hizashi wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing, though. "I don't know why, Eraser, I just… She screamed and I was moving before I even thought about it."

There was a long enough silence that Hizashi almost thought Aizawa had left before he heard a soft, quiet question that had him drawing a blank, "Mic. Why are you a villain?"

Slowly raising his gaze, Hizashi stared at the man. Aizawa stared back, a complicated expression on his face that Hizashi couldn't even begin to describe - it wasn't anger, though. It wasn't anger, and that was the part that was scaring him.

The question had been asked so softly and so seriously and Hizashi didn't have an answer. He used to know the answer to that question, back when he had started and had been trying to change things, but now?

Hizashi had wanted to get back at the heroes for how they never cared about the villains that weren't big and flashy. That was why he had done this. That used to be why he had done this. Heroes never helped the kids that were lost in the shadows and Hizashi had wanted to prove that all heroes cared about was their fame, but then…

Then Eraserhead had happened. Then _Aizawa_ had happened. Present Mic's hero had ended up being an actual _hero_ who did his best to help others in whatever way he could and didn't seem to care one bit for fame or the media. He was pretty sure Aizawa's hero persona could never be talked about again and that would please him more than anything.

Hizashi had wanted to get some aggression out because the whole damn system was so _broken_ , but then it had changed. First it was just proving everything everyone had ever said about him, then it was about having fun without the consequences, then it was helping a bit here and there if he felt like it, and then it was about seeing Aizawa as much as possible, and then…

Why was he a villain? It was such a stupidly simply question, and yet the answer felt like it didn't exist.

"I…" Could he really be called a villain when he had taken a bullet for a little girl without even hesitating? "I… don't know."

Was he really a villain?


	13. Chapter 13

Woo, sorry for the long pause between updates, guys! School's really been kicking it to me this semester, but you can't keep a good writer down!

A few quick notes to go over:

Just a quick update dealing with the timeline, but I won't be dealing with the Overhaul and Eri arc. Please assume that these events happen in Class 1-A's second year - as well as any further manga/anime plot elements. The rest of this story takes place throughout the rest of first year and possibly crossing over into the summer break. I don't want this story to grow too expansive where it was just meant to be a short thing, but corndog-patrol on tumblr has art of their original version of this AU that has Mic meeting Eri and it is absolutely adorable! As for me, well, I'm going to give our boys and 1-A a bit of a break. We'll see about Eri popping up in future drabbles, though!

Another note, I've changed the spelling of Shota to Shouta where I learned that Wikipedia is a fool that should never be trusted. I'll be using the spelling of Shouta from here on out, but there will be a final edit to the story once completed so that the earlier chapters are updated to reflect this - any other names I messed up will also be fixed.

With all of that said, enjoy!

* * *

"Your body moved before you could think, huh…" Shouta stared at the streets below him, the image of cracked roads and dim street lights blurring into a single color as he let his thoughts drift back to the other night with Mic. "What am I going to do with you, Mic?"

Shouta had responded to the alert of a bank robbery and had been the closest hero on patrol at the time. He had gone in expecting hostages and thugs or villains who had been twisted by the cruelty of the world - or had given in to their own cruelty. Instead he had slipped in and saw Present Mic bleeding with a gun trained on him.

The blood hadn't been a priority. Mic, whether villain or vigilante, had grown used to the pain of a difficult fight. The sight of a gun being pointed at him with a finger on the trigger had been anxiety inducing, but the expression on Mic's face - the expression of _acceptance_ as if he _knew_ he was going to die and had already accepted it as fact… That had been heartbreaking.

There was a second where Shouta had seen his student and a hand reaching out to crumble her down to dust. It hadn't been a reminder he needed, and it was only years of fighting and doing hero work that had him reacting on instinct, changing the path of the bullet and sparring Present Mic of death. Shouta hadn't spared him from a lecture, though, but then the man had gone and said _that_.

" _My body moved on its own before I could think."_

It was a joke among pro heroes. It wasn't a well-known joke, but it wasn't a secret, either. Every good pro hero, whether aware or not, they always managed to say the same thing. Their debut, the first time they helped someone, the moment they realized they knew what they wanted to do, it was the same phrase said again and again no matter the circumstances.

Their bodies moved before they could think. It was the mark of a good hero. It was the mark of a _good_ hero - one who cared more about the safety of people than the rankings or media attention. These days being a pro hero was akin to being a celebrity, but even then the feelings were often the same.

Shouta groaned and shoved his goggles down to rub at his eyes, fingers pausing and twitching as they touched the familiar piece of gear, thoughts of Mic drifting up even more than before. The overwhelming abundance of memories and thoughts were drowned out by one single conclusion, though.

Present Mic was not, and never had been, a villain. There was no way for him to be a villain when he was too afraid of his own quirk and only used it when he was _helping_ people. He protected children and saved teenagers he didn't even know, he broke up fights if they got too rough, and he was willing to let himself get _shot_ to help those who he had never met before. Present Mic may have called himself the 'Voice Villain,' but it was clear that he was anything but.

Even half the police in his area thought Mic was a vigilante! After the report he had filled for the bank robbery, half the force had asked him who the vigilante was that had been at the scene. Shouta hadn't had the heart to correct their assumptions. Plus, it was going to be that much funnier when they were told the hostages were saved by another villain.

The sound of tired footsteps had Shouta coming out of his thoughts and tugging his goggles back up, reminding himself that he was on patrol. A glance down showed a man with long blonde hair that was pulled back in a bun, grumpy expression on his face.

The grumpy expression on his face was why it took so long for Shouta to realize that the man was familiar due to the fact this was the barista he saw at his regular coffee place. He didn't even know that the shop _closed_ this late.

"-stupid fucking douchebag. I could kill him and people would _thank_ me. Oh, Yamada, you murdered your boss? Well, yes, because he made me stay _four hours_ past closing and _clean_ and-" The words drifted up through the air towards him before dropping back into bitter grumbling and mumbling, Shouta feeling his lips twitch into a smile.

He would have to remember to try and be a touch nicer towards him in the morning if he was there. Back to back closing and morning shifts weren't exactly fun, especially when he already looked exhausted and overworked. Seeing people like this made Shouta wonder what Mic's day job was. The man had to be doing _something_. Hm. He probably DJ'd at a local club.

Looking back down, Shouta now saw two figures in the shadows where the street lights didn't reach instead of just the one. Readying his binding cloth, Shouta took a moment to assess the situation before he saw the flash of a gun.

Jumping down, Shouta barely landed before he was shouting loud enough to get their attention, " _Hey_!" The gun was now trained on Shouta, which, good. The civilian, the same barista, was tense and had a pale face and shocked expression, entire body drawn in tight. He seemed to be favoring his right shoulder, so it was possible he was hurt, but Shouta hadn't heard a gunshot, at least.

"Who are you supposed to be?" The man who held the gun sounded panicked and ready to pull the trigger. Shouta would've been amused if there wasn't a hostage or a gun involved.

"I'm the guy that's going to kick your ass." It was possible Shouta took some aggression out when it came to the fight that followed, but Shouta didn't have much sympathy for those who contemplated murder as being an acceptable risk.

Making sure the knots were tight and the police were on their way, Shouta finally looked to the civilian, gaze flicking him over quickly to assess for damage. The man was rambling about how he was okay, full of nervous energy. He looked ready to vibrate out of his skin and there seemed to be some sort of damage to his shoulder.

"You sure you're okay?" Shouta asked, pushing his goggles up and finally cutting into the rambling. He a had a lot of practice with Mic, after all.

"Of course! He didn't get a scratch on me!" Something was… not wrong, but not quite right, either. Shouta felt like he was a few steps off from where he should be, and it wasn't a feeling he particularly liked. Usually he was still half-asleep when talking to this man, so maybe that was it.

"Well," Shouta sighed, turning back to keep an eye on the defeated villain. He wasn't much moving. "You should at least come with me to make a report."

" _No_!" That was a very strong reaction to the idea of going to the police. Maybe the other just hated paperwork. Shouta could relate to that. "I mean… I'll just head home - thanks for the help, Eraserhead."

"Mm." Jumpy, but he wasn't bleeding and didn't seem in any extreme pain, and if he didn't want to make a report or press charges, then Shouta could let him off easily enough. Strange, though. It was very rare that a civilian knew his name considering his status of being underground.

The feeling of the wrong steps turned into that of a missed step. It was odd, but maybe Shouta was just putting too much thought into it. If Mic were there, he would probably…

Shouta's thoughts trailed off into silence as he felt a million little clues come into complete focus in a way that had him torn between incomprehensible anger and utter despair.

There wasn't any other way to react when he realized his barista of the past few months was Present Mic.

::

Shouta really should have seen this sooner. He was groggy with the hour or two of sleep he had managed, but he pushed himself to focus as he stared at the barista who had a nametag he had never bothered to read before. Present Mic's family name was Yamada and Shouta was feeling more and more like an idiot by the second.

Not only had Present Mic been in front of him since the very beginning of this whole mess, but he couldn't even _complain_ about it to anyone. He could never let this realization be known – to Nemuri, especially.

"Hey, there! You're actually pretty early, this morning!" Yamada greeted, his tone an exact match for Mic's in every way possible.

"I couldn't sleep so I decided to start the day early." Shouta was only half aware of the words coming out of his mouth as he did his best not to be obvious about his staring. The more he looked, the more stupid he felt.

Yamada was wearing the same bulky glasses that Mic had worn all those months ago when his own sunglasses had still been broken. There were the hearing aids that Shouta caught glimpses of when Mic's headphones weren't on. There was that _stupid_ mustache that should have been a _dead giveaway_ and all of it was tied together with bright green eyes that were shining as if they _knew him_ and _fuck_. Present Mic had been serving him coffee the whole damn time. This was Mic and he knew _exactly_ who Shouta was.

"Maybe you shouldn't be drinking coffee, then," Yamada - _Mic_ \- teased, smile fond and warm in a way that Mic never let himself really show. "I wanted to say thank you, by the way, for last night. It's good to have a hero around these parts."

"It's my job," Shouta shrugged off, trying to get over his panic and calm himself down. It wasn't working as much as he wanted it to.

"Well, thank you anyways, Eraserhead," Yamada laughed, everything about him soft and quiet in a way that Present Mic never let himself be. Shouta had thought his feelings had been bad before, but this… Jeez.

"Aizawa," Shouta said quietly, pleased when Yamada blinked at him in confusion. "I'm off duty in the mornings, so it's Aizawa Shouta."

"Oh." The word was a soft exhale, Yamada's eyes wide and bright and a smile on his face that looked fragile. If Shouta hadn't known who this was before, then this moment would have given it away. "Well, then, it's only right if you call me Yamada. Yamada Hizashi. Um, nice to meet you?"

"Right. Nice to meet you." Shouta was fucked. His name was Yamada Hizashi. Present Mic's name was Hizashi which literally meant the perception of _sunshine_. Shouta was filled with a dawning horror as he silently realized how many times he had compared the man's smile to _sunshine_.

"Right, your order!" Yamada quickly moved to get the items, passing by a teenager coworker who was hissing something at him as he scribbled on an empty coffee cup before filling it. Shouta couldn't even be upset he only counted two espresso shots instead of his usual six.

Yamada bustled around the small area and looked to hiss something back to his now glaring coworker before setting Shouta's coffee and a bag of cute cat muffins on the counter. "Here you go, Aizawa-san! Consider this one on the house as thanks for last night."

"Oh, uh…" This man was too sweet. This man was _literally sunshine_ and Shouta had no idea how to deal with it. It was one thing dealing with Mic's cockiness and rapid wit, but it was another dealing with this soft and quiet barista who gave the warmest smiles. "That's really-"

"I won't take no for an answer," Yamada insisted, pushing the items closer and then crossing his arms. "And I can be a lot more stubborn than you can!"

"That part I didn't doubt," Shouta muttered, taking the items and half hiding behind his binding cloth as he eyed Yamada. "Thank you."

"Of course! Just don't make me say that stupid 'have a lovely day' phrase," Yamada mock frowned, sticking his tongue out. "It's so lame!" The frown disappeared in favor of one of those bright smiles. "Have a nice day, Aizawa-san!"

Shouta managed to keep himself together, as well as mumble back a response, and make it all the way to the U. A. staff room. He was in complete control of himself for the entire time. The moment he sat down, though, he let his head hit the desk, cheek squished against the desk as he _felt_ his cheeks redden.

"My, my, what's this, Shou-chan? Are you feeling _embarrassed_ over something?" Nemuri, the utter _vulture_ ,was leaning off his chair in a second. Shouta did his best to ignore her and instead looked at his coffee cup which… didn't have his name written on it. Instead, scrawled across his cup in looping lines:

 _Sound does not travel when no one hears_

 _Yet you have always listened for me_

 _From my loudest shouts_

 _To my quietest whispers_

 _My voice has never fallen on deaf ears since you_

 _Is it any wonder I fell for you_

 _Like the last sharp note of a song_

 _Trailing off before dropping into unknown_

"Holy shit, are you dying? Your face just got so red?" Nemuri's shocked voice barely even registered, Shouta only staring at where _Present Mic_ had written _a love poem_ on his _coffee cup_. Oh, god, how often had he done this? Had Shouta been throwing away cups with love notes on them this whole time?

Shouta turned his head to rest his forehead against his desk, his co-workers chatting above him in a way to where it was nothing except for white noise.

Jeez… Shouta had never felt so blind as he did now.


	14. Chapter 14

This turned into the longest chapter of the story thus far and this whole thing spawned from what was supposed to be a 1k word intro to the actual chapter. Well... I hope you enjoy, at least!

Remember to check me out on ibelieveinahappilyeverafter on tumblr to see more of my writing, more of this story, and even find out ways to get writing you won't see on my typical accounts.

And before I forget, this story has fanfiction of it's own! Check out "trying to take care of you" over on AO3 by H_C which involves a story divergence after Chapter 12 of this story: archiveofourown org/works/17796071/chapters/41985164

Enjoy!

* * *

Within a single day Hizashi had managed to tear one of the stitches in his shoulder, drop his keys down a storm drain, lose his time card that would allow him to clock in for his shift, had missed lunch _because_ his boss didn't trust him to take one without his time card, and, to top it all off, the same boss had also rejected his request for overtime even though Hizashi was pulling almost _sixty hours a week_.

He was sore, he was tired, and all he wanted to do was go home and _sleep_ , but, no, instead he was staring at the door that lead into his shitty apartment complex, remembering with vivid detail the way he had dropped his keys into the drain earlier in the morning. His emergency key was also _inside_ because he had used it a few weeks ago when losing his _last_ set of keys in a fight.

Hizashi stared at his door, vaguely hearing Snowball meowing for him, before he turned and shambled his way back down the stairs, trying to keep his shoulder as still as possible. The over the counter meds he had taken had stopped working hours ago and Hizashi wasn't sure if it was a good thing or not that he was hardly registering the pain anymore.

Feeling his phone buzz after he was halfway to the little convenience store a few blocks away, Hizashi sighed and dug it out, glancing at the message preview, ' _Yamada-san, can you take my afternoon shift? I know you open but I need to pick up Yuki from his father's…_ ' Checking the sender, Hizashi groaned as he closed his eyes.

Kameyo was a single mother with a four-year-old who just received a quirk that changed his sweat into acid. There was no way she could afford to lose her source of income or even lose too many hours. If she didn't find a replacement for her shift, then their boss would probably cut her back by fifteen hours _at least_. Fuck.

' _Consider me on the job, Kameyo-san!_ ' Hizashi debated not sending the text for a moment before he went through with it, watching until he got confirmation. His phone then flickered to show a low battery warning before shutting off altogether.

Hizashi stared down at his phone and felt like everything he wanted to say was vibrating and buzzing throughout his body, pushing him closer and closer to some sort of edge. He didn't realize he was shaking until he was winding his arm back and throwing his phone away from him as hard as he could, swearing and just barely holding his quirk back as he realized he threw it with the shoulder that had been _shot_ just a short while ago.

"Huh. And here I thought you couldn't swear." Hizashi went utterly still, fingers clutching at his shoulder as if that would hold him together. It didn't seem to be helping as everything felt even worse at realizing just who those words belonged to. After all, Hizashi could be deaf and blind and he would still know that voice. Apparently, the gods hadn't made him suffer enough recently. "You know, it's pretty irresponsible to be going around and throwing phones."

At that, Hizashi slowly lifted his gaze up, swallowing as he saw Aizawa, in full pro hero gear, was holding Hizashi's undamaged phone. If it had hit the ground, it probably would have cracked and Hizashi would have been even more screwed. It took a few moments to find his words, Hizashi almost tired enough to forget he wasn't Present Mic in that moment. Fuck why did Aizawa always have to make things so _difficult_.

"Sorry, Aizawa-san. It's… been a long night." His body shook like there was a festering wound embedded under his skin, Hizashi rubbing at his throat and looking back down, doing his hardest to not scratch. He was an adult. He could handle himself, now.

"Mm." Startling at the tap to his cheek, Hizashi glanced up once more, Aizawa patiently holding his phone out for him to take. "Then you won't mind if I escort you home. Last time you were out this late you almost got shot."

"I can promise that's not a regular occurrence," Hizashi said quickly, frowning a bit at the disbelieving snort. Maybe as Present Mic he got into trouble, but as Hizashi he was boring at best and uninteresting at most. "Besides, I, uh… can't go home."

"Why not?" With the man's goggles resting on his forehead, Hizashi saw the way Aizawa's eyes narrowed, a glint of red in the very center as he stared him down. Hizashi wondered if Aizawa knew how _terrifying_ he could be.

"Oh, well, uh…" Trailing off, Hizashi ducked his face down and mumbled the reason quickly, praying Aizawa wouldn't push.

"My quirk isn't super hearing." Ah, but then again, it was stubborn and brilliant Aizawa who could never let things go.

"I… dropped my keys down a storm drain." The dreaded, awkward silence Hizashi was expecting never came and instead there was a quiet little _laugh_. As well, instead of feeling embarrassed, Hizashi felt something tight within him start to relax, Aizawa trying to hide his smile in his scarf. There was no hiding the amusement in his eyes, though. If he and Aizawa were anyone else, Hizashi might have called that look fond. "Yeah, like I said, it's been a long night."

"Come on," Aizawa chuckled, walking forward and grabbing the front of Hizashi's shirt before spinning him around and tugging him along to get him moving back towards his apartment. Hizashi was relatively sure Aizawa didn't know where he lived, so the man had probably just made a lucky guess. "Do you leave your windows unlocked?"

"In _this_ neighborhood?" Hizashi scoffed, trying not to flinch at the _look_ Aizawa gave him. It was the same one he always gave Mic and it had Hizashi tucking into himself and fear that the other _knew_. "I keep one unlocked for emergencies in case I get broken into or something, but it's not the one over the fire escape."

"That's fine, I can get in and then unlock the door from the front." Right. Okay. Aizawa was helping him back into his apartment. Maybe he was trying to see where Present Mic lived? "Lead the way, then."

Nodding and moving to walk beside the man, Hizashi chewed on his lip for a moment before working up his courage. "Um, Aizawa-san… Why are you helping me? I mean, surely a hero has more important things to deal with," Hizashi aimed for a jovial tone and a laugh, but it must have fell flat because Aizawa looked so serious when he looked over at him.

"I think you're plenty important, Yamada-san." This man was bad for his heart. "And don't bother with the honorifics. They make me feel old."

"I hardly think you'd be considered old seeing as you're still in your twenties." There was a _burst_ of deep, thrumming laughter, Hizashi almost tripping over his feet at realizing he had made Aizawa _laugh_.

"How old do you think I am?" Ah, that question when paired with a laugh meant Hizashi was about to feel deeply embarrassed.

"I don't… Twenty-six? Twenty-seven?" That seemed about right. Aizawa was messy and often had tangled hair and stubble, but his face was still smooth and young.

"I'm thirty-one," Aizawa laughed again, this laugh softer and more subdued. "I'm honored you thought I was the same age as you, though."

"Wha- _What_?" This time it was Hizashi whose laughter bubbled over. "Well, good news for you, Aizawa-san, we _are_ the same age." Aizawa stared at him as if he couldn't believe it, Hizashi trying to smother his laughter.

"You should make it more obvious." For a gleeful second, Hizashi could pretend that the man was _blushing_. "And I thought I told you to stop with the honorifics."

"Mm, alright, but only if you promise to do the same," Hizashi said, his nerves disappearing in the wake of Aizawa's smile before they got the chance to grow.

"I suppose we have known each other for a few months, now." It was only Aizawa's calm and relaxed pace that made Hizashi realize the other had been talking about the coffee shop and _not_ the face they were arch enemies. It was hard to believe that Aizawa had known his civilian self for months and yet they had never talked beyond those short few minutes in the coffee shop every other morning. "Is this your complex up here?"

"Oh, uh, yeah." Hizashi had never been overly embarrassed about the places he had lived in his life, but the fact that _Aizawa_ was seeing his shithole of an apartment made him feel nervous and like he needed to explain himself. "It doesn't exactly look the best, but it's not all that bad. It's just, you know…"

"It's a place to live." Aizawa had an expression that could almost be called soft, the man giving him the trace of a smile. "It reminds me of where I lived until I graduated U. A."

"Oh." Actually, now that he thought about it, Aizawa _had_ mentioned something about growing up in a neighborhood like this one. "You lived somewhere like… here?"

Aizawa was silent a moment, looking to the ground and then back to the complex as he nodded, "I lived over on Block 27 in this area."

For a moment, Hizashi's mind was completely silent. _That_ was enough to shock him, but what Aizawa said took precedence because _what_ , "You're shitting me. You- Block 27?"

"It's a bit on the outskirts and no doubt my complex was torn down, but yes." Aizawa looked over at him, raising his eyebrows. "Are you-"

"I lived three blocks away from there for almost four years when I was in my last few years of school. Are you _kidding_ me? You were _right there_ -" Hizashi's anger was shot through with a spike of pain, Hizashi unable to do anything but gasp and clutch at his shoulder.

"Yamada!" Hands were catching him by his arms before the pain could knock him over, Hizashi unable to even appreciate the fact that it was _Aizawa_ holding him as he tried to block out the pain. "What happened? Are you alright?"

"I-" Hizashi winced and grit his teeth and closed his eyes for a long moment. "I messed up my shoulder a few days ago and I haven't taken anything for a while, is all."

"Come on, let's get you inside. Which door is yours?" Aizawa tugged him along even as Hizashi mumbled the door, hating himself for how weak he was when he honestly almost _blacked out_ while walking up some steps.

He felt himself propped up against the wall, the cool concrete soaking through the back of his jacket and dragging out a small sigh of relief. He heard a mutter from Aizawa, but before he could question it, the man was patting at his cheek.

"Oi, stay awake, alright? I don't want to pick your lock when that'd just fuck up your ability to use a key on it in the future. I'll go around through the window and let you in as soon as I can, alright?"

Cracking his eyes open, Hizashi swallowed down a million words before settling on a quiet, "Sorry."

"For what?" Aizawa frowned, looking as if he honestly didn't know. The man was too nice for his own good, honestly.

"I'm a grown adult," Hizashi muttered, gritting his teeth for a moment when the pain spiked again. "I should be able to take care of myself and not waste a pro's time with this."

"You're not wasting my time, Yamada." Aizawa stared at him as if he was holding back words of his own before turning away. "I'll be right back."

"Do you even know what window to look for?" Hizashi yelled, completely unsurprised when Aizawa vanished without an answer. Honestly, that man.

Leaning back against the wall, Hizashi tried to calm himself down and focus through the pain. He had been through a lot worse than a shot shoulder, but _damn_ if it didn't hurt when he was trying to take care of the wound on his own.

One of the EMT workers at the bank that night had been in possession of a minor healing quirk so Hizashi at least avoided a trip to the hospital, but it was still a nasty wound. It was also easily identifiable as a bullet wound - especially to a pro hero that was so keen on helping him out. Jeez, it wasn't like their coffee was _that_ good.

Pushing himself off the wall, he startled as his door swung open with an anticlimactic little swing, Hizashi letting out a quiet laugh, "Wow. That was pretty fast. Consider me impressed, Aizawa… Ah." Hizashi blinked, staring at where Aizawa's arms were full of a purring Snowball. Aizawa was absolutely _beaming_. "I see you found my cat."

"I thought you would be the type to have a small cat." Aizawa didn't look willing to let Hizashi's cat down anytime soon, but Hizashi supposed Snowball _was_ a pretty great cat. This was also the most Hizashi had ever seen Aizawa smile, which was… equally wonderful and unnerving.

"He is small!" Or, well, he _had_ been, at least, before Snowball's sudden growth that still left Hizashi scratching his head some days. The cat was barely even a year old, after all, if that.

"Do I need to teach you the difference between small and _massive_?" Aizawa said, cocking an eyebrow with a hint of a smirk.

It took more effort than it should have to push down all the dirty jokes that sprung to mind. He was Hizashi right now, not Present Mic. And Hizashi needed to shuffle his way inside to at least get his shoes off, although he ended up staring at where Aizawa's boots were already on the ground. It looked like he had taken them off after climbing through the window and somehow that, of all things, made Hizashi remember just how stupidly in love he was with this man.

"I'm not sure what breed he is, you know. I thought he could be a maine coon or a forest cat, maybe, that was thrown out by a breeder or something, but the structure is all wrong. You know, he does shed."

"If I was worried about shedding fur, then I wouldn't have my own cat," Aizawa snorted, finally letting Snowball down and moving to help support Hizashi as he kicked his shoes off. Hizashi was trying not to laugh at seeing the black jumpsuit was already covered in fur - most likely the reason it took Hizashi a few moments to realize what Aizawa had said.

"You have a cat?" That… made sense, but it was also stupidly cute. He suspected Aizawa had a cat, at least, but it was nice to get that confirmation. "You know you have to tell me their name, now."

"Only if you tell me his name," Aizawa said, nodding down at Snowball. Hizashi was happily about to tell the man before he remembered with horrifying clarity that it was _Present Mic_ to tell the man that he had a cat named Snowball. It was already dangerous enough just talking to him like he was, now.

"I, uh, maybe next time. Right now I should really get inside and check on my shoulder and everything." Did Aizawa even suspect anything yet? Hizashi hadn't realized how comfortable he was until just that moment, but if he slipped too much… it wouldn't be too hard to connect Yamada Hizashi to Present Mic. Villains had already done it themselves, after all, with that Trigger dealer, and Hizashi knew that Aizawa could find out through the police station any time he really wanted to know.

Actually, now that he thought about it, why hadn't he? Maybe the first few times could be explained away as not caring enough, but after all they had gone through, Aizawa had to have looked into it by _now_ , right? Nothing had changed, though, between them - both as Present Mic and as Yamada Hizashi. Was he just not worth it, then? That had to have been it.

Hizashi wasn't worth the effort and Aizawa had never bothered to try and figure out who he really was, because why bother with something that wasn't even interesting. He had read all of this so wrong. To think he once thought there was a _chance_. No. There was no way-

" _Yamada_." Jerking at the sharp tone, it was only Aizawa's hands on his arms that kept him from jerking back and hurting himself. "Did you hear anything I just said?"

"Oh- Sorry, no, I'm- It's been a pretty bad day. Sorry, I should let you get back to your patrol. Can't leave these streets undefended, after all!"

"I was saying that you should at least let me help you look over your shoulder." If it wasn't for Snowball's meows and purrs, there would have been absolute silence in the apartment.

"What? No- Why would you want to?" One sentence and Aizawa had managed to throw all of his fears and questions into doubt. "You're a pro hero who's supposed to be _underground_. I probably shouldn't even know your name."

"I doubt you're about to run out in the streets and tell every villain there is my real name," Aizawa laughed, moving to close the door that Hizashi had left open since he thought Aizawa had been about to leave. "Come on. You're looking ready to pass out."

"You don't have to do this, you know," Hizashi muttered, unable to bring himself to fight as Aizawa led him further into the apartment. "I'm not much a fan of pity."

"Pity is the last thing I feel about you." There was _something_ in those words, but Hizashi was nowhere near the proper state of mind to try and figure it out. "Which door leads to your bathroom?"

"Second on the right," Hizashi sighed, managing a small smile as Snowball led the way with loud, vibrating meows, Aizawa looking to be holding back laughter. "Sorry. He's as loud as me, sometimes."

They fell into a more comfortable silence this time around as Aizawa pulled and pushed Hizashi until he was sitting on the edge of the tub, a first aid kit opened beside him. Aizawa looked like he was hesitating before finally meeting his eyes, "Would you be okay if I helped you get your shirt and jacket off? If you want to keep the shirt on, I can try to work around it."

"Oh." That was… oddly sweet. It might be safer since Hizashi didn't _know_ what he would do with Aizawa's hands on him, but, well, he was always a bit selfish. "Sure, just let me know if you need help or something, I guess."

As Aizawa started to work, Hizashi clamped his mouth shut and tried to suppress any and all noises as Aizawa worked his jacket off first and then his shirt, slow and methodical with each movement. He was so caught up in staring, he almost missed the quiet, "Talk to me, Yamada."

"Oh, man, I think you're the first one to ever ask for me to _talk_. Most people are always trying to tell me to shut up." There was no joke that maybe he should go back to being silent, Aizawa only calm and relaxed as he nodded like he wanted Hizashi to _keep_ talking. "This is a distraction from the pain, isn't it?"

"Yes." At least he was honest. "Tell me something that's been on your mind, tonight. Something that made this day such a bad one."

"I mean, I already told you about the keys," Hizashi said, scrambling for words and scrunching his eyes shut as Aizawa started working the shirt around his hurt shoulder. "Um, okay, the phone thing- I threw it away because it died right after I took on a coworker's shift because of a bunch of reasons, so now I need to work morning _and_ afternoon, tomorrow."

"Do you normally pick up more shifts than you can handle?" Aizawa asked, Hizashi letting his silence speak for itself. "Thought so. You seem the type to cause yourself stress to save others from it."

"Ah, how rude to assume things of someone you barely know," Hizashi teased with a forced grin, Aizawa's hands faltering against him before he was moving to prod at his shoulder. For the first few moments, Hizashi had to control himself from saying or doing anything stupid as he felt callused fingertips trailing against his skin and searing a path into him that he would likely never forget. It then took everything in him to not activate his quirk when Aizawa pressed against the edges of the wound because _that_ would let Aizawa know who he was for certain.

"Sorry. It doesn't look infected, but it doesn't look all that good, either." Aizawa seemed to know what he was doing and Hizashi didn't bother to try and look. It had been bad enough when he had to change the bandages on his own the first time and had almost fainted. He wasn't aware he had completely silenced himself, however, until Aizawa was patting at his side, startling him. "Talk to me, Yamada."

"Oh, um- Right. My shifts- I don't mind. She's been through a lot, more than me, it feels like, so I don't mind helping her. It's our boss that's the real jerk- I mean, you know those cat muffins we sell? What am I saying, of course you do, you always buy some."

"They're cute," Aizawa said simply, Hizashi wanting nothing more than to coo over the man and tease him and maybe sneak in a kiss or two to the cheek and maybe- _Ah_ , okay, right, pain was very good for focusing his thoughts. "What about the cat muffins?"

"I was kind of at fault for when we brought them back, right? Since I was the one to ask my boss about them, he decided that I should be the one to _make_ them, so my usual morning shift got moved to where I have to come in an hour or two early. I mean, I've adjusted, by now, but it was _awful_ when it started."

"You… _You_ make those muffins?" The small, soft tone of awe had Hizashi's heart tripping into overtime, the look in Aizawa's eyes making him _hope_ for a second. The moment of hope was probably the cruelest joke of them yet. "Why would you go through all that? They can't sell that well."

"I…" It was because he had worried about his 'enemy' not eating in the mornings. He had seen this scruffy and tired man and worried because he knew how much work he put into everything he did. Aizawa had seemed sad about when they stopped and Hizashi had wanted to see him smile, or be given that small smirk of his, or even just look like he didn't have so much _weight_ on his shoulders. He wanted to thank the hero so badly, so he had done what little he could to _try_ to help. "I guess I don't really have a reason." He had several.

Aizawa seemed to know there was more he wasn't saying, but he finally shook his head, Hizashi shivering as he felt some sort of cream spread over the wound after Aizawa dabbed at it with some disinfectant. Aizawa's voice felt more like a balm than the actual medicine, "You, Yamada, are something else entirely."

"Guess I am," Hizashi chuckled weakly, smile feeling a bit more real when Snowball, tired of being ignored, jumped onto the edge of the bathtub and shoved himself against Hizashi's side. Aizawa looked like he was trying not to laugh, Hizashi giving one for him. "You know, I actually really like all his purring and meowing. It makes this place feel less quiet."

"That's one of the reasons I love my own cat," Aizawa said quietly, digging through the first aid kit again. "She makes the room feel less empty." Hizashi had been about to respond before he felt a bandage pressed against his wound - probably to keep it from bleeding considering his torn stitch. "Sorry. There's nothing in here to really numb the area."

"I have a bottle of wine somewhere," Hizashi managed to wheeze, grinning a bit at Aizawa's laugh. He must have started going silent again, because he felt Aizawa give him a little nudge as he started wrapping his shoulder up tightly.

"Talk to me." Fuck, why was it that both as Mic and Yamada it was always _Aizawa_ that wanted to hear him _talk_. Hizashi didn't know how to deal with that and now it was coming at him from both sides of his life. "It can be about anything."

The pain spiked for a moment and the words were tumbling out, " _Fuck_ , okay, uh, it's hard to believe that we used to live only a few blocks away when you were growing up? High school, right? That's around the time I lived there- Fuck, we could have seen each other and never even known."

"Almost done," Aizawa said quietly before his tone picked up. "And we never met. I think I would remember someone with hair like yours."

"Nah, I used to keep it really short," Hizashi laughed, the sound pained more than anything. "I wonder what would have changed if we had met back then or more than just in passing, maybe. That would have been fifteen or sixteen years ago, right? Jeez, that's half our lives. We could have known each other for half our lives if things had been different."

"I don't know… I think I like this version." Aizawa sounded further away. Prying his eyes open, Hizashi saw the bright lights of his bathroom that were almost blinding since he wasn't wearing his sunglasses, Aizawa sitting back with a small smile. "The torn stitch didn't look good, but they're all dissolvable, so you shouldn't have to go to the hospital. This bandage should last a few days, too. By then you should be healed enough to be able to change them on your own."

"My hero," Hizashi laughed, taking a moment to try and relax as Aizawa put away the first aid kit as if he did this frequently. Considering the fact he was a pro, he probably _did_ do things like this frequently.

When he focused back, he saw that Aizawa was holding out a glass of water and a couple of pain relievers. Hizashi took them gratefully, near draining the cup of water before he looked back up, trying not to let Snowball knock him into the floor where he was trying to get more attention again.

"I know I've said this before, but you've seriously saved me this time around." There was a quiet laugh, Hizashi biting his lip for a moment as he remembered the conversation he and Aizawa had after the hero had recovered from that USJ attack. "The world could use more heroes like you."

"Maybe." Aizawa clicked his tongue, Snowball leaping into his arms in a heartbeat. The sight of the stern hero Eraserhead holding a loud, purring cat was enough to make Hizashi laugh up a storm. "What about you, Yamada?"

"What about me what?" Hizashi asked as soon as his breathing was under control, giggles still slipping out of him.

"Did you ever want to be a hero?" There was once a time where that question would have sent him into a panic, but this was Aizawa and he wasn't Present Mic. Besides, it would be nice to be honest, for once.

"When I was younger," Hizashi finally said, standing up slowly and carefully as he set his now empty glass down on the edge of the sink. "In our society, it's all kids want to be when they grow up, after all."

"What changed?" Aizawa didn't look like he was paying much attention, but Hizashi knew how sharp and clever this man was. If he let slip even one clue that he was Present Mic, Aizawa would connect the pieces together in no time at all.

"I… think it was a lot of little things, honestly." He didn't want to lie, but there was no harm in being careful. "I started thinking differently not long after middle school. That's when everything really changed."

"It's a shame we never met." The man's voice was soft as he let Snowball back down, and when he looked back up, his gaze was even softer. "I think we would have been decent friends."

"Oh, hero…" His only saving grace was that for once he spoke the silly nickname in Japanese instead of English. "You give people too much credit."

"I think you give yourself too little credit." Aizawa stared at him and Hizashi watched as his smile turned into something he could only call beautiful. "I have a feeling that you would be an amazing hero, Yamada."

Jeez… Aizawa Shouta was far too much of a hero.

::

It had taken almost another hour, but soon Hizashi had been tucked away in bed with his door safely locked, Aizawa back out on patrol while Hizashi set huddled up in blankets with a cat purring on his stomach.

"Block 27…" With his hearing aids out, Hizashi could only rely on his thoughts to really know what he had said. He usually thought over everything silently at night, but these thoughts felt too big for silence. "Friends, huh?"

Eraserhead was a hero that was better than them all. Not only had he stopped to help a civilian he didn't even really know, but he had stayed with Hizashi long enough to even help him with his shoulder - and he hadn't even _asked_ what had happened to him.

Hizashi wondered what would be different if they had met when they had been going to high school or even junior high. If they had met, would Aizawa somehow have managed to convince him that he could be a hero? Would Hizashi have tried for U. A.?

There was no way to know, but Hizashi indulged for just a moment in the idea of being childhood best friends. He thought about the two of them meeting, both deathly silent until Aizawa managed to coax words out of him like he had in the bathroom.

They could have gone to U. A. together. There could have been a day where Hizashi would grow to love Aizawa as much as he did now, but in that version he would have called the man Shouta and would have been less scared to share his feelings. Hell, maybe they would have been heroes, together, too. Above all, there was a chance that they could have been friends from the very start.

It was a nice little dream, but then Hizashi remembered their long nights of chasing each other and fighting in the streets, sharp words flying just as quick as fists and weapons. Their relationship here, if it could be called that, was fast and unsteady and went from fighting with all they had to Aizawa sitting with him silently on a rooftop in peace.

It was mad, and crazy, and it shouldn't make sense no matter how he looked at it, but Hizashi agreed with one thing Aizawa had said that night.

No matter how bad his life was at times or how confusing it all got to be, Hizashi could honestly say that he liked this version of it all. It made him more appreciative of all the good that _was_ in his life - like tonight.

He was tucked away in bed surrounded by covers and a large cat, his shoulder had been carefully cleaned and bandaged, and he had managed a conversation with Aizawa that was just that. A conversation with Aizawa as _himself_. Sure the rest of his life was a wreck that was slowly unraveling, but with nights like these…

With nights like these, where Aizawa smiled at him and told him that he would be an amazing hero, well.

Hizashi almost believed it.


	15. Chapter 15

Woo! This took _so_ much longer than I wanted it to where midterms hit hard. Here we are, though, with Chapter 15. There's three more chapters left after this, so the story will be wrapping up shortly. Don't despair, however! I have "end game" drabbles planned for this series as well as two spin-offs that deal with mind sharing and body swapping. That's right, readers, we are FAR from done!

To keep up to date on this and so much more check out my tumblr at ibelieveinahappilyeverafter! You can find ways to help me out, buy me a coffee, and even find out how to read drabbles that I don't post to the public. Hope to see you there!

Enjoy!

* * *

Halfheartedly scribbling a thumbs-up on Ashido's latest test paper where she had achieved a low B, Shouta glanced at his phone as it started vibrating for the fifteenth time that hour. Considering his contact list was five names long, he could safely narrow it down to the only person who would find the need to text multiple messages in a row instead of confining her words into a single text box like a _sane_ person.

' _Eraser!_ ' ' _When were you going to tell me that Present Mic was a hero?!_ ' ' _He just saved me and my sidekick a bunch of trouble!_ ' ' _He's so great too!_ ' ' _He's really a SCREAM!_ ' ' _Lol but no seriously when were you going to tell me?_ ' ' _ERASER HE HELPED BANDAGE MY SIDEKICKS ARM AND GAVE HER A PIECE OF CANDY_ ' ' _IT WASN'T POISONED CANDY EITHER_ ' ' _OI ERASER CAN YOU HEAR ME?_ ' ' _He told me to tell you hi by the way he's so cute_ ' ' _Really tho is he licensed? When did that happen?_ ' ' _Ah he's leaving now but seriously check the news it'll probably be on there._ ' ' _Did you delete my number again? It's me! Ms Joke! Your fiance!_ ' ' _erASER_ ' ' _Tell Nem I said hi_ '

Exhausting. Joke was utterly exhausting and Shouta regretted every day that he hadn't killed Nemuri for giving her his number. Moving to turn his phone off, Shouta frowned as it started ringing with an annoying American song that Nemuri had chosen for herself years ago. He almost let it go to voicemail before he decided he didn't want to deal with her in person.

"What do you want, Nemuri?" Shouta answered, pushing himself up from where he had been working at the kotatsu for the past few hours. It was really showing he hadn't moved in a while, he mused.

" _I thought you said Present Mic wasn't a vigilante?_ " Right. Joke had been talking about a fight that Present Mic had showed up to help out on.

"He wasn't last time I saw him. What happened?" Shouta shuffled to the kitchen, smiling softly as he deftly avoided Jelly's playful jumps and nudges against his ankles.

" _Joke and that new sidekick of hers, Bullseye, were having some problems with a mutation quirk villain. Some sort of large animal with a lot of teeth and not that good at laughing._ "

"Not good for Joke," Shouta muttered, frowning as he checked his coffee pot, wrinkling his nose at the cold dregs left behind. He'd need to brew some more.

" _No, not good for Joke. They were waiting for backup when your vigilante came on the scene and took care of the guy. Five minutes and he was down._ "

"Sounds about right. Why are you calling me, then?" Flicking his phone to be on speaker, Shouta started a fresh pot, eying Jelly's food bowl. He could probably give her at least another half scoop for the night.

" _Because you said he was still a villain last time we talked!_ " Snorting at that, Shouta picked his phone back up, collapsing at the kitchen table.

"He probably still thinks he is." Really, though… Yamada hadn't been a villain for a very long time. After their talk the other night at the man's apartment, Shouta was almost certain that Yamada had _never_ been a villain. He was far too kind for that.

" _He keeps saving people! That's the opposite of a villain!_ " Stifling a laugh against his fist, Shouta listened to Nemuri's ranting and complaining as he kept an ear out for the quiet sounds of a happy cat and a brewing coffee pot and thought about the 'villain' that was Present Mic, or, rather, the _hero_ that was Present Mic. Shouta had a feeling that this wouldn't be the last they heard of the new vigilante and hero.

Two weeks later proved him more right than he was expecting. In two weeks Present Mic had teamed up with Nemuri for a raid that had gotten out of control, aided Kamui Woods with a building evacuation during a fire, bonded scarily well with Mt. Lady during a bomb threat, and had even managed to work together with _Endeavour_ of all people. Although, Shouta had heard from Nemuri that Endeavour's ears had been ringing for a few days afterwards.

All in all, Present Mic was finally making an impact like he had wanted to, turning the spotlight on him and making sure the media, and by extension their world of heroes and villains, knew just who he was. And yet, here he was, hiding away on the top of a roof like he was scared of being seen.

Landing on the edge of the roof lightly, Shouta hid a sigh in the wraps of his binding cloth as he stepped forward, letting his footsteps be heard. He knew Yamada knew it was him when the man didn't even tense or look back. Not sure what to say, Shouta finally settled on something that he at least knew would get a response. "How goes the day, hero?"

The laugh was dry and brittle, an inch away from snapping as much as Yamada was. The man still responded, though, tilting his head to look back at him, "Shouldn't it be night?"

"Probably," Shouta said softly as he gave a twitch of a smile at Yamada before moving to take a seat beside him, still marveling on how a man as loud and outspoken as Present Mic had such a common name. Then again, after speaking with him in his civilian life, he supposed it made more sense. Yamada Hizashi seemed scared to speak louder than a whisper. "You know, typically heroes stick around to do the paperwork that comes with the work you've been doing."

"It's a good thing I'm not a hero, then." The words were clipped, short, and to the point. Shouta believed them as much as Yamada seemed to. "I know what you're going to say and I'm not changing my mind. I'm not… I'm not some hero."

"No," Shouta finally sighed, looking down over the city that spread out around them. From the building they were on it felt like they could see their entire world awash in cool blacks and bright neon lights. "You're not." Shouta hated how, out of the corner of his eye, he saw Yamada _relax_. "But you could be."

For once, Yamada didn't have a quick response or a sharp denial ready. Instead he looked towards the night sky, hints of stars just barely peeking past the light pollution of the night. Silence settled around them, but Shouta noticed it wasn't a comfortable silence. It wasn't upsetting, to any degree, but… there was tension.

Shouta finally sighed, fingertips curling around the sleeve edge of Yamada's leather jacket, giving it a light tug. The man didn't move, but Shouta knew he had his attention as he asked, "What are you doing, Mic?"

"I… thought I could help. People, _good_ people, were at the risk of getting hurt on all those occasions. I thought… I don't know. I thought maybe I could at least make sure no one died. I thought I could help-"

"You _did_ help." Did he really not see that? After _all of this_ , did he really not see that he was doing good? "Joke told me how you helped her and her new sidekick. It could have been a lot worse. Nemuri won't stop bugging me to get your phone number for her, half the other pros thought you were a new hero, and Endeavour is still absolutely pissed - which, if you ask me, is always the mark of a good hero."

His last line, just like he had hoped, had Yamada giving a startled laugh. Tension seemed to drain out of both of them, Shouta feeling a shoulder press against his own. He didn't move away. Instead, he sat calmly, relaxing at the swath of warmth until he heard Yamada suck in a shaking breath, "I'm supposed to be the villain, Eraser." Eraser? Ah, right. Yamada didn't know that _Shouta_ knew who he was - both parts of him.

"Is that what you really think? Or is that what you've been told to think?" Because Shouta had a theory that Yamada wasn't a villain by choice. He had started all of this to _help_ people in his own way, after all. A man like that could never be a villain. "You keep saying your quirk was dangerous… Who told you that?"

Just as he suspected. Yamada was tense against his side once more, wound up and tightly coiled as if ready to cut his losses and run. It was almost cute that Yamada thought Shouta would ever _let him_ leave. Maybe that wasn't the right question to ask, though. Maybe the better question…

"Why have you been helping the pros, Mic?" If he was so dead set on being a villain, why help? "A villain would have taken advantage and taken them all down. You stopped and _helped_. Why?"

It felt like an eternity, but finally, _finally_ , Yamada let out a shaking, wobbling sigh. It was a sound that was a step above a sob and Shouta wasn't sure how to feel about the fact that he wanted nothing more than to draw Yamada over and _hug him_. He was getting too soft.

"Mic." Biting his lip, Shouta pushed his embarrassment aside and slowly moved a hand up, freezing for a few seconds before setting his fingertips against Yamada's cheek and carefully pressing until he had the man finally looking at him. Yamada looked like he was shaking to pieces and Shouta didn't stop to think before he pressed his palm against Yamada's cheek, thumb rubbing against soft, smooth skin. "Why are you helping, Mic?"

There was a single moment where Shouta thought Yamada would jerk away and bolt. That moment passed, however, and Shouta shivered as he felt Yamada completely relax and lean into his touch as if he was _starved_ for it. Distracted as he was, Shouta almost missed the words Mic said next.

"Someone important to me told me that I could be a hero." The words were whisper soft - a secret that he knew Shouta would protect. "I think he might have been right."

::

Shouta had never lied. He knew that Yamada Hizashi could be a great hero, but that didn't mean he could ignore the truth. Yamada had grown up on rough streets and knew how to fight both with and without his quirk - which was powerful on its own. He hadn't been trained as a _pro_ , though.

There were some pros that didn't go to a school specialized in hero training, yes, but that meant they usually served out internships and acted as sidekicks until they had the knowledge and experience they needed to go forward. Some sidekicks spent over a decade learning from pros, and even a new pro had the force of an agency behind them. Hell, Shouta himself worked for an agency and _he_ was _underground_.

Yamada had none of that. He had no idea what the common strategies or signals were, he had never been trained to keep calm in mentally taxing situations, and he no doubt had only ever interacted with panicking civilians briefly. There was also the fact that he had never been trained to deal with _real_ villains.

Present Mic fought thugs and gangs and kept the streets safer, but he didn't deal with smuggling rings, quirk black markets, and hostage threats. Present Mic should never have been _near_ a raid for an underground market that dealt in trading _children_ with promising and powerful quirks. It was too dangerous - for him and everyone else involved in the scene.

It was all well and good to call him a hero, but that did not make him a _pro_. At best he was a vigilante and at worst he was an _idiot_ who was trying to get himself _killed_.

" _Mic_!" The busy and upscale neighborhood (which hadn't that been terrifying to know this was all taking place in somewhere considered _safe_ ) was filled with nosy civilians, handcuffed villains, crying and screaming children, and the wailing of sirens. Shouta could barely hear himself _think_ in the mess, but he knew Yamada could hear him. Yamada always heard him. "You are _not_ just walking off after all of that! You can barely _walk_!"

This raid had been dangerous from the start, but, as was the case these days, they had underestimated their opponents. While all the children had been rescued and were still alive and breathing, Yamada and half of the smugglers had almost _died_ when the man had _brought down the building_ to keep them from escaping. Shouta himself had barely gotten out and it had taken over an hour to dig everyone out. Yamada had been _lucky_ that he was still _alive_!

"You could've _died_ from a stunt like that! Are you _even listening to me_?!" Yamada was bruised, bleeding, and _limping_ , his glasses having been cracked during the initial crumbling of the building.

"So what if I die? You wouldn't care. I'm a villain - and a piss poor one at that." Yamada had spun around to meet his approach, fist clenched around his broken sunglasses as he stared at Shouta with tear-filled eyes. Shouta wasn't sure if it was the tears that made it feel like the breath was knocked out of him or the fact that Yamada had just said those words so _casually_. No… he had said them so _bitterly_. "I give it my all and you _still_ hate me!"

Shouta had failed. If Yamada thought that he hated him after all that had happened, then he had well and truly failed in _everything_. Yamada looked close to even more tears, voice sounding so _defeated_ as he muttered, "At least let me sulk in peace."

Shouta was moving before he was even fully aware of it, catching Yamada by the lapels of that stupid leather jacket of his and tugging him close and keeping him from running away. His fingers had gone white with how tight his grip was, but he paid it no mind, instead entirely wrapped up in how their foreheads bumped together, Shouta hearing the hitch in Yamada's breaths as he slammed his eyes shut, unwilling or unable to meet Shouta's own gaze. It hurt more than he thought it would. There were a million words he could say, but words had never been Shouta's strong point, and all he could get out was, "I don't hate you."

"So what is it?" Yamada was quick with words like always, but his voice shook as if expecting the fall that was about to come. "What's wrong with me?" Shouta was so tired of Yamada thinking he was worthless. He was tired of Yamada thinking that Shouta would _ever_ let him fall. "Why all the rejections?"

Shouta was bad with words. He always had been. There had been a hundred situations where Shouta had destroyed or ruined something because he had said the wrong words. He was determined to not let that happen with this man. So instead of words that would fumble and fall flat, Shouta tightened his grip on Yamada's jacket before pushing himself forward, lips slotting themselves against ones that were chapped and dry. The silly man probably bit his lip every moment he grew nervous.

For a moment the lips against his were still and unmoving and Shouta felt his heart _drop_. There was no way he had read all of this wrong. Present Mic had flirted from the start, but Yamada Hizashi had stared at him with eyes that were filled with the same emotion Shouta had constantly been feeling around him.

When he felt hands curl into his jumpsuit and pull him _closer_ , lips pressing hard and messy against his, Shouta realized he shouldn't have even bothered to worry.

Pulling back, because even a moment like this needed a few words, Shouta bit his lip as he looked at Yamada's face, still bruised and dirty from the raid, but flushed with pink and holding wide green eyes that practically _shone_.

"If I hated you," Shouta near whispered, "I wouldn't have bothered putting up with all of your stupid hijinks."

" _ **Oh!**_ " The exclamation was quirk strong, Shouta not giving Yamada the chance to apologize before he was pressing forward again, lips finding Yamada's as if it was the easiest thing in the world. Yamada didn't hesitate, this time.

Shouta would be lying if he said he hadn't pictured this moment before. He tried not to, but when the thoughts slipped in they usually revolved around adrenaline and something fast and rough and more about actions than words. This… wasn't.

The kiss stayed hard for only a moment before Shouta felt hands cupping his cheeks, calloused fingers resting against him and a rough thumb pressing into the scar under his eye, dragging against it like he had after the USJ incident.

Shouta wanted to know those hands. He wanted to know each dip and curve and he wanted to know what had caused each scar and callous. Shouta could spend hours kissing his way across each inch of skin, giving the man all the contact and attention he had so obviously been _starved_ of.

He had to have been starved of touch. It was in the way Yamada clung to him like he was afraid Shouta would pull away and never return. It was in how he pushed forward with the same amount of force he pushed back, arching into the hand that Shouta had pressed against the back of his head, keeping him close.

It wasn't rough and fast and hard, though. It may have started like that, but Shouta was becoming lost far too quickly as Yamada curled into him like he belonged there, lips moving slowly and assuredly against his, a hint of teeth pressing against his own lower lip that had Shouta shivering and fighting back any sort of noise. Yamada didn't have the same concern, a low, soft moan leaving him when Shouta's fingers dug against the man's scalp.

Slowly remembering that they were in the middle of a raid scene and they were both sore and injured, Shouta carefully pulled back, almost going right back when he saw Yamada staring at him with a flushed and dazed expression.

"Come on, hero," Shouta mumbled, indulging enough to let himself press his lips to the edge of Yamada's jaw, skin smooth and soft as he returned the favor from so long ago and flicked at the skin with the tip of his tongue. The noise Yamada gave had Shouta swallowing roughly as he pulled away again. "Let's get you patched up."

"Promise not to let go?" Yamada's voice was rough and low and nothing at all like the smooth, high tones he had as Present Mic. It had Shouta tightening his grip more than he thought possible.

"I won't."

::

"How hard would it be to have an adult get a pro hero license?" Shouta kept his expression perfectly blank and even, laid back as ever as he watched Nemuri cycle through at least eight different expressions in the middle of the staff room. When her face finally settled on a sharp smirk, though, Shouta wondered how fast he could get away.

"This is for Present Mic, I take it?" Nemuri's voice was a _purr_ and Shouta _hated her_. He still gave a single, sharp nod, however. "Well, well, it looks like my little Shou-chan finally found love! Ah, they grow up so fast!"

Shouta kept silent and, by the time he realized his mistake, it was too late. Nemuri was staring at him with sharp, narrowed eyes. Shouta stared back evenly, trying not to show any fear. She could no doubt sense it.

"Shou-chan," Nemuri cooed, voice light and sweet and containing all the horrors of the world. "When I said you found love, that's usually when you correct me and tell me how wrong I am." Right. There were many ways to do this.

"There's no use in correcting you when you aren't wrong." In hindsight, Shouta should have expected the squeal. "Are you going to help me with this or not?"

"Of _course_ I am!" As usual, Nemuri didn't seem put off by his sharp voice and sharper glare at all. "Oh you'll have to tell me _all_ about it. Did you two finally admit to your feelings?"

"Sure." In truth, there hadn't been much time. The raid had been a few nights ago and Yamada had been absolutely exhausted after having an EMT on the scene use a minor healing quirk on the worst of his injuries. Shouta had followed to make sure he got home alright, but they hadn't had a chance to talk about… what had happened. Yamada had whispered that he would see him soon, though, before leaving, and that was more than enough. "Here's the paperwork I've managed to gather so far."

"You can leave it all to me, Shou-chan!" Nemuri grabbed the paperwork, near spinning in circles she looked so happy. Shouta had the urge to tie her up and shove her away in a closet for a few days. "I've witnessed a true miracle! Not only is my sweet Shouta in love, but his feelings are _returned_!"

"You're lucky I still need you alive." Shouta hated to admit it, but Nemuri was far better with loopholes and paperwork than he was. Besides, this was important. He wanted to have all the paperwork ready when he finally sat Yamada down and _truly_ talked to him about all of this. "I'll see you tomorrow. I have things to do."

"Right, right, go train your secret love child," Nemuri waved off, suddenly pausing and going completely still. Shouta was already reaching for his binding cloth as Nemuri looked at him with wide eyes. "Does Mic know you have a son?"

"I am going to skin you alive and feed you to my _cat_ ," Shouta hissed, _refusing_ to admit any heat in his cheeks. "I _do not_ have a son."

"Yet." Turning on his heel, he decided that ignoring Nemuri was the best thing he could do. "Boo, no fun. I'll get the paperwork to you later!"

Pausing at the door, Shouta glanced back and gave a small nod before deciding that he could be cruel, too. "Mic and Shinsou have already met. He seemed delighted that I 'had a son.'" With that, Shouta left the lounge and closed the door, smiling a little to himself as Nemuri's pleas and whines for more information.

Heading to the indoor gym he had been spending most of his afternoons in, Shouta peeked his head in and smiled to himself as he saw Shinsou going through his warm-up routine, focused intently as he moved through his stretches. The kid had come far since that first fight in the festival and Shouta knew without a doubt that he would make it into the hero course.

"I know you're there, Sensei." Kid was getting more observational, too. Shouta hated how _stupidly_ proud that made him. "It's creepy when you just watch, you know."

"It's my job to watch." Striding into the room and over to his student, Shouta helped him to his feet, noticing the _look_. "You have two minutes." It had taken months to get Shinsou relaxed enough to talk with him honestly and openly. It had then taken a few minutes to realize he had made a horrible mistake. Once Shinsou was comfortable enough to talk, he didn't _stop_. Shouta almost wanted to throw him in a room with Yamada and see which one ran out of words first.

"The new hero Present Mic, huh?" Shinsou had a large grin on his face, Shouta placing a hand on the teen's head and gently tipping his head down towards the ground. All it did was cause laughter. "Is he still saying he's a villain?"

"Not for much longer." Not if Shouta had anything to say about it, at least. "He was never much of a villain to begin with, anyways."

"I thought he was that night when I first met him." Oh? That was news to him. "He came striding in like he was one of them and the guys who had me cornered started talking about how he was always fighting against Eraserhead."

"Well, they weren't wrong," Shouta snorted, nudging Shinsou along. "Come on. Second set of stretches."

"I don't think I was afraid of him even when I heard that, though." Shinsou kept talking even as he began the next set of stretches, Shouta shucking off his capture weapon and joining him. "He was glaring, but he was glaring at the one that was holding that muzzle-"

" _Muzzle_?" Shouta stumbled out of his own stretch, eyes snapping to Shinsou. He silently conceded to Nemuri that he might have grown a touch attached when he had the immediate urge to check the kid over and make sure he was alright after an event that had happened _months_ ago.

"Oh, I didn't tell you that part?" Shinsou blinked, looking entirely nonplussed. "They were talking about how I'd fetch a nice price." The fact he could say that with such a detached tone had Shouta feeling even more worry. He didn't much like it. "He played them all, though. Present Mic."

"Let me guess. He got rid of the muzzle and then screamed at them until they passed out?" Because he remembered the state those men had been in when Shouta had come across the scene.

"He took the muzzle and fooled them into thinking that he was helping and that he was going to put it on me himself," Shinsou recounted, tongue poking out as he focused on a pose he always had problems with. Shouta was nudging him into the correct position almost absently, Shinsou flashing him a smile. "He had them all fooled even as he dropped that muzzle and put his headphones on me instead."

"That sounds like him," Shouta snorted, remembering that night clearly, now, and how Yamada had been without his headphones when Shouta had found him. "He's not all that intimidating once you see that stupid smile of his."

"Yeah. He had me hide behind the dumpster and reassured me the whole time. He made it seem like he was on their side right until he took them down." Shinsou stood up from his stretch, entering a more relaxed one as he stretched his arms up, a small crack coming from his back. "He's a pretty amazing hero when you think about it."

"Vigilante, you mean?" Shouta glanced down to see Shinsou's smile, wide and honest as he shook his head.

"No. I meant hero." Shinsou laughed as Shouta rolled his eyes, fighting to hide a smile. Shinsou was right, though. Yamada truly was an amazing hero. A hero that… deserved to know the truth.

Next time. Next time they spoke, Shouta would tell Present Mic he knew exactly who he was and he and Yamada Hizashi could sit down and figure things out. It wasn't going to be easy - not by any stretch of the imagination - but Shouta had a good feeling about where it was going to go from here.

It was time for Aizawa Shouta and Yamada Hizashi to be more than just Eraserhead and Present Mic.


	16. Chapter 16

Okay, so I lied. This is now going to be twenty chapters, but I didn't want to rush the ending since you guys deserve so much more! I hope you enjoy because now we're really reaching the climax of the story!

To keep up to date on this and so much more check out my tumblr at ibelieveinahappilyeverafter! You can find ways to help me out, buy me a coffee, and even find out how to read drabbles that I don't post to the public. Hope to see you there!

Enjoy!

* * *

"And that, listeners, concludes the story of how pro hero Midnight and I managed to level an entire warehouse building together! I feel sort of bad she got stuck with all the paperwork, but we did swap phone numbers! I'll be sure to tell you _all_ about the drama she has to share with me, listeners, but unfortunately that'll have to wait until next week's show!"

Hizashi smiled to himself as he clicked around on his laptop, starting up the end of the night playlist that he had uploaded to his hosting site the night before. It had taken a lot of learning from his mistakes, but Hizashi liked to think that he had his solo radio career down to an artform. The trick was to broadcast from an empty building and then leave _before_ his signal could be tracked down. So far, he had only _almost_ been caught!

"Remember that next week is all about pro heroes! Email us at our website with all your wild stories about your hero interactions. Did you meet your childhood hero? Did they live up to all the hype? Did they _not_ live up to it? Send in your stories and remember to keep those hands up as we end another night and start another _beautiful_ morning! My name is Present Mic and here's to all the _heroes_ and _herolets_ keeping us safe out there! Good night and good morning, Japan!"

Cutting out his microphone volume while slowly increasing the volume of the playlist, Hizashi smiled to himself as the comment wall filled with positive and excited feedback as always. If his villain career didn't work out there was at least the chance he could _actually_ get his own radio station. Then again, he doubted anyone sane would trust a radio station to someone with a voice quirk like _his_.

Running through his routine of disconnecting his equipment and tucking it away in a messenger bag, it was only ten minutes before Hizashi was walking down the street with his hair down and in a half-bun, his undercover pair of 'normal' sunglasses on, and a brown leather jacket. All of it together made him look like just another civilian among millions.

Feeling his phone buzz, Hizashi dug it out and glanced down, half expecting a co-worker asking him to take on another shift. Instead it was Midnight with a simple message of, ' _Great work on your show tonight!_ '

' _Thanks!_ ' Even if it was a lie to try and gain his trust so she could 'turn him good,' Hizashi still appreciated the kind words. ' _Shouldn't you be asleep?_ '

' _Um this coming from the guy who just hosted a late night radio show?_ ' ' _Lol no I had a late patrol and teamed up with Eraser._ ' ' _He was listening too._ ' ' _Don't tell him but I saw him smile a lot tonight._ '

' _Of course! My radio show is the absolute best after all!_ ' Even as he blustered through the text with a Present Mic attitude, Hizashi couldn't stop the flush from spreading across his cheeks as he thought about _Aizawa_ listening and _enjoying_ his show. Aizawa…

It had been a little over a week since The Moment and they had yet to see each other since then. Hizashi knew a part of it came from the uptick in villain attacks over the past week, but that still didn't make the separation any harder. Hizashi hadn't even seen him in the coffee shop in the mornings! He supposed a part of that was due to the fact Aizawa lived on the school campus, now, but Hizashi had still seen him from time to time after he had moved.

Maybe… Had he regretted that moment? It was possible, wasn't it, that Aizawa… No. Hizashi knew how bad the world was and how easy it was for the worst to happen, but Aizawa had kissed him _first_. He had kissed _back,_ and he had been as unwilling to let go as Hizashi had been. Hizashi knew he had problems when it came to hoping and believing in the best, but he wouldn't let himself doubt Aizawa. Not after how far they had come. Not after seeing how _sweetly_ that man could smile.

Right. He needed to get his mind off of all of this. Pausing at a crosswalk, Hizashi glanced around the busy distract. He had wandered towards the edges of his area where the dark parts started blending back into the more middle-class district, the streets filled with indulgent mothers, busy businessman, and laughing students on their way to school. The air was alive and filled with energy and it did more to perk Hizashi up than any cup of coffee could.

It was too easy to let himself get caught up in the flow of the city, only stopping when he saw an open stall of the most recent magazines. Considering his next radio show would be about heroes and hero gossip, it wouldn't hurt to start doing a bit of research ahead of time.

"You look like a man interested in heroes!" Ah, the stall owner didn't waste any time, did he? "I got all the latest issues of the biggest hero magazines - I even have one dedicated to the new rising heroes of the day!"

"Rising heroes?" Hizashi ducked closer and picked up one of the magazines, flipping through it to see that it was one of the larger publishing companies in Japan. They had a high reputation and were very rarely wrong in any of the news they reported. "They seem to multiply every year, huh?" And not always for the right reasons.

"Recent as of just a few days ago," the owner chirped. "There's actually a few familiar names cropping up already if you've been watching the news. You know that Present Mic one, right?"

"What?" Hizashi's head snapped up, the man waving at the magazine and already moving on to a gaggle of girls that had lingered for a second too long at the other end of the stall. "Oi, what do you mean Present Mic!"

Not getting an answer, Hizashi turned back to the magazine, near ripping it open as he scanned the pages. Half of it was ad space as usual, but there, in the main article, was a picture of him at one of the raids he had helped Midnight on. He was in full costume with a wide smile, the accompanying article talking about the new rising hero that was _Present Mic_.

Considering he himself was dressed down with his hair half pulled up in a bun and his glasses that were near normal besides a light tint, he didn't feel anything like how he looked in the picture. "This is ridiculous! Don't they get that I'm a _villain_?"

The article went in depth about the assist he had been giving to other pro heroes and the way he had helped on the Trigger case that had swept the nation. It made him sound amazing, but the truth was that he had just been lending a hand. He hadn't really gone in wanting to be seen as a _hero_ , but… It wasn't like villain was an accurate word anymore.

"Yeah, Present Mic is the _coolest_ new hero!" Startling at the words, Hizashi scrunched up the magazine as he jolted, near hiding behind it as he glanced behind him to see two school age girls talking about _him_.

"Are you kidding? All Might is still the coolest hero ever." Well, yes, but All Might was _All Might_. Even if Hizashi didn't agree with the system, he knew that All Might had changed the way the world _saw_ heroes. He had done a lot of good for the country.

"Nuh-uh! Mic is way cooler!" Hizashi felt his heart speed up as he realized that there was someone out there who thought he was a _hero_ \- and one that they admired, at that.

"You just like him because he has a voice quirk like you do," the girl's friend laughed, the girl who had first spoken huffing and crossing her arms with a dramatic pout.

"Maybe I do! He may be new, but he's already _my_ hero-! Ah! We're going to be late!" The two girls were gone as quick as they had appeared, disappearing into the crowds of people as Hizashi stared after them with a crumpled magazine, trying to wrap his mind around the fact that he was somebody's _hero_.

People were starting to see him as a _hero_. It was something he had dreamed of when he was younger and still believed a hero would save him, but he had given up that dream when he realized nobody was coming to save him. Then again… A hero _had_ come to save him.

It was a dream that he had abandoned so long ago, but Eraserhead had told him differently. Aizawa Shouta had told him that he could be a hero - he had told him that as a hurt civilian and as a renegade villain. Everyone said he was a hero, but could Hizashi really call _himself_ something that he wasn't?

There was a reason he called himself a villain and not a vigilante. The system was broken. Hizashi _knew_ how broken this entire system of pro heroes was. The system had shattered long ago, but…

It wasn't wrong of him to still want to help people, was it? If people called him a hero and called him _their_ hero… It wasn't wrong to want to try to be worthy of that.

Right?

::

"Well, Present Mic, I suppose this explains why you were never interested in my offer. Leave it to my luck to try and push my product off on a _hero_." The words were cultured and smooth and came from a voice and face that could be easily forgettable. It was that easy forgettability that made Hizashi realize just how badly he had fucked up.

"Aw, come on, can't we let bygones be bygones here?" Hizashi spread his hands wide and gave his most winning smile, heart pounding and tripping into overtime as he tried to figure out just how he had gotten into this mess. "I was just passing through!"

"And in passing through I see you managed to break the nose of one of my men." The Trigger dealer that he had dealt with months ago was adjusting his cufflinks and looking a mixture of bored and disappointed. It was that total disinterest that had Hizashi's blood _boiling_ considering he had stumbled upon him and a group of men attempting to kidnap children straight out of an _orphanage_.

He had been too distracted. Hizashi's thoughts hadn't left that conversation he overheard about a girl calling him her hero and he had strayed too far from his usual route. Now he was in the part of his area that bordered on the more _proper_ areas - which was why this was so horrifying. It was _broad daylight_ and Hizashi had appeared when men were roughing up the caretakers and gathering children up like they were nothing more than some scared puppies.

He had charged forward just as the shield had gone up and he wasn't sure if it was good luck or bad luck that he was stuck, but he at least had his back to all of the children and was between them and the threat that was after them.

Hizashi hadn't expected these people to know him and think he was a hero, though. He hadn't expected there to be a powerful quirk user who could form shields around a large area that, so far, seemed unbreakable. He hadn't expected to be trapped and up against a group of powerful looking men who numbered over a dozen with just as many children behind him.

 _Fuck_ , he should have just stood aside and called up the police stations and waited until a _real_ hero had shown up, but… The children had been crying.

"I have to say, Present Mic, your disguise fooled us all, didn't it? You make such a convincing nuisance that no one thought to look any deeper. Seeing as it's just us now, however, why don't you show who you really are?"

None of the villains were charging forward, yet, but why would they? Hizashi was soundly trapped along with the children. He didn't dare use his quirk when it was possible the sound waves would bounce off the shield and hurt the children behind him, and a glance outside showed that none of the heroes were having much luck in getting in.

There were at least two or three heroes outside the transparent jade green shield made of what looked like pure glass, Hizashi recognizing them as high-profile, _powerful_ heroes. It didn't mean good things if they weren't able to get in. He had no doubt that the fact it looked like glass didn't mean it broke like glass.

Not even a dozen feet behind them, though, was what was a veritable media _circus_. There were too many cameras for Hizashi to count with a glance and, with how quiet the street was at the realization that there was nothing the heroes could do, their voices were loud enough to carry over the whole area.

"Yo, man, no need to sound so crazy. C'mon, ya gotta know by now that not all villains are for the whole kidnapping children thing! I mean, really, they're cute kids, you gotta admit! Besides, what's the plan here, even? The second you drop that shield the heroes are going to swarm ya!"

"Oh, I think there's enough shields behind you for us to go free." What a sick, twisted bastard. "From what I've been assured, a bullet travels faster than things such as Midnight's quirk." Behind him, Hizashi heard one of the girls burst into tears, a quick glance back showing a precious little girl with ram horns and pigtails being held tightly by a boy beside her. They were hardly old enough to even _have_ quirks.

"Damn, you're darker than I am!" Hizashi laughed, wild and loud and so fake. "C'mon, man, you're just a low-time dealer, ain't ya? Let this go now and you'll probably get a pretty low sentence."

"I thought I asked you to show me who you really are." Yes, well, that wasn't going to be happening anytime soon, now was it- "Yamada Hizashi." For a second, Hizashi was impressed that the man knew his name.

Then he realized there were cameras on them and broadcasting to so many news networks that Present Mic's true name was Yamada Hizashi. Even if he were to turn around and leave right now, everyone would know. His name was a common one, but yellow hair, glasses, a mustache, and so many other little clues? It wouldn't take a genius to put it all together and everyone who knew him would _know_.

It was the realization that Aizawa would know who he was that really made it sink in. The public may have thought he was a hero, but the other heroes and the police… They would know the truth. They would know the truth that he had managed to hide in plain sight and now there was no going back. His saving grace before had been the fact that the police station had never cared about a nobody that never used his quirk in fights. As it was now, though, there were people who knew how dangerous he and his quirk were.

"You do your research, I see." Hizashi dropped his hands that had been held up in a pacifying gesture, staring at the plain, nicely dressed man in front of him. He could have been one out of millions. That was what made him _dangerous_. "You don't seem the type to take part in trafficking. What is the League paying you for this job?" Hizashi could see the surprise and the shock, but one of the men behind him was near roaring before anything else could be said. It was the one with the now broken nose.

"Why don't we just _kill him_ already?! He's _in the way_ and we're on a _time limit_!" So, there was a time limit to the amount of time this shield could be up, was there? That was good. Hizashi could delay them until it fell and then the other heroes could take care of this mess. If it was one thing Hizashi could do, it was draw out the time.

"Patience, Kirin. We have time enough. This is the man that has so many of ours locked behind bars, after all. That radio show of yours was quite useful, wasn't it?"

"I was never a big fan of drugs, myself, and yours are just _nasty_." Judging by the lack of a black tongue, this man knew that, too.

"Perhaps, but they're oh so useful." The tone told him all he needed to know, and a single look showed just how many Trigger uses were a part of the group. "You really think a single hero can stop us? Perhaps it's good that you're here. We can use you to show these children that death is not outside the realm of-"

"I'm not a hero." Hizashi didn't let his words be soft and lost to the wind. He glanced back at these terrified children, all so young and new to their quirks, and then he looked to the cameras that were trained on him. The world was still so silent. "I'm not some hero or vigilante or silent do-gooder here to help people."

"Your record seems to say otherwise, Present Mic. You've been quite busy, haven't you? Patrolling your streets, stopping muggers and thieves, teaming up with pro heroes, and my, oh my, does the list just go on and on."

"I'm not a hero, but I'm not a villain, either." Just admitting that he was no longer a villain… He had known - of course he had known - but _saying it_ seemed to release a weight off of him that he hadn't even known was there. "But I am someone trying to make a point."

"A point that you'll be making with your death, I hope." The Trigger dealer looked behind him, nodding at the dozen men behind him. The one near the back, far away from danger, was no doubt the one causing the shield to be active. "I'd say it was a pleasure, Present Mic, but it really wasn't."

"Don't fight them." The voice was almost whisper soft and Hizashi startled at realizing it came from the little girl with the ram horns. "If you fight them, they'll kill you. I don't want to see anyone else die in front of me. Just let them take us, Mr. Hero."

"Yeah, we'll be okay! We're tough!" Just like that, the children were all agreeing and chiming in that they would be fine and that Hizashi should just step aside so he didn't get hurt. It made him want to cry. These children who had been through _so much_ were telling him to step aside because they didn't want him to get hurt. It made him want to _break_.

"You'd do well to listen to them, 'Mr. Hero.'" Head jerking back up, Hizashi swallowed as he saw the group advancing. _These_ were villains. People who craved and celebrated bloodshed and who had no qualms using their quirks against someone else.

"Yeah, I probably should." Hizashi tightened his stance, taking a few deep breaths. He couldn't scream, but he could use short range attacks and follow it up with hand-to-hand. He just had to hold them off until the shield broke, after all.

Hizashi took one last glance to the cameras that were trained on them, the entire world seeming breathless for a moment. Well, Hizashi mused, at least he had finally gotten what he had wanted since this all began.

The eyes of the world were watching.


	17. Chapter 17

We're almost done! Three more chapters to go after this one and man oh man am I excited to get to them. There's a scene in the next chapter that I know you guys are going to scream over. I promise this is the last of the HEAVY plot stuff. From here on, after this chapter, most everything is just wrap up and fluff.

Remember to check me out on my blog ibelieveinahappilyeverafter to see everything else I write and all the ways you can support me and my work!

And, in case you needed a reminder, they all will live happily ever after. I promise.

Enjoy!

* * *

"You're fucking kidding me." Nemuri's blunt words caused a gasp from one or two teachers, Shouta unable to place who they were since his full attention was trained to the breaking update on the television in front of them. "Who cares! The students can't hear me swearing in here and, pardon my language, but this feels like it deserves the fucking swearing!"

Shouta couldn't bring himself to speak, but he was in absolute agreement. He had gone to the staff lounge to try and avoid Nemuri and her crusade of getting him to eat a proper lunch, but he hadn't expected her to run in and turn the news on with a look of _panic_ on her face. Shouta had thought that the League of Villains had made some sort of declaration or attack, but instead he had watched as a national news site showed footage of Present Mic in trouble.

"Oh, what the fuck, what the fuck, what the _fuck_. Is he really risking everything to save a group of _orphans_?" It was a trope only seen in media these days, but there it was. Present Mic, _Yamada_ , was fighting a group of villains that were attempting to steal a group of orphan children who were hardly old enough to have quirks. He was trapped, unable to use his quirk, and had been outed on national television, and _still_ he was about to risk his _life_ to be… a hero. "Why the _fuck_ is this guy such a _hero_?!"

"You're quite right, Kayama-sensei." Nedzu stood in the doorway to the staff lounge, eyes trained on the television with a calculating expression that had Shouta half hopeful and half worried. "Present Mic is a hero I've had my eye on for quite some time, actually." There was no pause or emphasis on the word hero. It was stated as nothing more or less than a simple fact. Shouta felt like he could slump in relief.

"Looks like he won't be _anything_ much longer if they don't figure out a way to help him," Sekijiro muttered, arms crossed as he drew their attention back to the television. Shouta couldn't argue with his view. No matter how the odds were calculated, they weren't good.

"Exactly! As heroes ourselves, shouldn't we provide as much support as we can afford to send out of the school?" Nedzu had a sharp look in his eyes as he looked to Nemuri and then to Shouta. His gaze stayed on Shouta once it was there. "I expect you two to bring him back safely."

Shouta didn't wait for Nemuri's response, only giving Nedzu a sharp nod before he was racing out of the room and towards the parked cars outside. As much as he would like to just run until he was there, it was more logical to take Nemuri's car - although he might drive off without her if she didn't _hurry up_.

"Not all of us can run at the speed of light, Shouta!" Nemuri didn't waste any time in unlocking her car, diving in and starting it before Shouta even had his door closed. "Seatbelt."

"He could be fucking _dying_ right now, Nemuri, and you're concerned about _seatbelts_?" Shouta grunted as he was shoved back in his seat, seatbelt clicked around him and a phone shoved in his hands before the car was tearing out of the parking lot.

"News app. Now. I know the area, but not the exact destination. Let our agencies know we're both in route to the destination, too." Nemuri's instructions were quick, clear, and calmly stated - which was more than Shouta could say for himself. He knew that while he was experienced in situations like these, he wasn't experienced with the fact that it was the man he was _in love with_ that was in danger.

Sending out the messages to their agencies with clumsy fingers and fighting with the app for a moment, Shouta chose whatever news station Nemuri had saved at the top, a burst of static blasting through the phone before words were coming through. "- _and it seems like the fight has truly started in earnest! I am always one to give our heroes the benefit of the doubt, but the new hero Present Mic, who appeared only within the past few weeks, seems to be struggling with his opponents. It's twelve against one, Japan, and the odds are not in the hero's favor._ "

" _Fuck_ ," Nemuri hissed, the car speeding up. Shouta would have been panicked at Nemuri's driving in any other occasion, but now he could only feel grateful. "Swipe right and there's video."

"I'm not sure I want to see this." It was a whispered confession that contained a million things Shouta would always be too scared to voice. Instead of pointless words of comfort, though, Nemuri reached out and gripped his arm, squeezing tight.

"Swipe right, Shouta. We owe him that much." The words Nemuri left out rang clear in the cramped car. _We owe it to him to watch_.

" _-talking with other pro heroes on the scene who have informed us that there is no reliable way to deal with the quirk in question that has created this domed shield around Present Mic and the children they are after. Attempts at breaking the shield and digging underneath the street have both been executed and both have been met with failure_."

The footage that was being streamed was shaky and filled with static at some parts, but it gave a clear enough image as to what was happening. The news reporter was off to the right of the picture, the focus on the jade, transparent shield that was trapping everyone inside. There was a burst of movement from inside, Shouta counting at least three bodies on the ground and knocked unconscious before his attention was drawn to a laughing figure with a wild smile.

" _Come on! Is that the best you villains got?!_ " Yamada's voice was crystal clear - no doubt an effect of his quirk. It was likely his quirk was slipping where he was so used to using it when things became this dangerous. Shouta knew, though, that Yamada had already done the calculations. His quirk would be of little use during a fight like this. " _I thought you wanted to kill me! Well?! I'm still_ _ **fucking standing!**_ "

The last two words were filled with the power of his quirk – not enough to cause ricochet, but enough for one of the villains to stumble before Yamada was following it up with a punch that _hurt_ \- something Shouta knew for a fact. The car jerked and swerved past an intersection and Shouta took a moment to realize they had, most likely, almost died, but too much of his attention was focused on Nemuri's phone to truly care.

" _It seems we've been given an update, Japan!_ " The news reporter was speaking clearly but quickly, something Shouta appreciated considering the circumstances. " _Our researchers have managed to track down Present Mic, true name Yamada Hizashi, and discover the specifics of his quirk._ "

"I can't believe they're just using his fucking name like that! That's so reckless considering he never released it himself and-"

"Are you just incapable of shutting up at important moments?" Shouta saw Nemuri's mouth open and, instead of letting her continue, Shouta turned up the volume on the phone as loud as he could.

" _-devastating effects! Records state that, at the time of his birth, he was able to reach 170 decibels with his scream - a level loud enough to rupture eardrums. While it's a powerful quirk, Japan, it's also too dangerous for this situation. Other pros are in agreement, from those we've managed to get statements from. If Present Mic uses too much of his quirk, the ricochet could hurt not only him, but the children he's protecting-!"_

" _You can do it, Present Mic!"_ The cheer came from a high pitched, almost distant voice. The camera swerved in a dizzying motion before focusing on the group of children that were hiding behind Yamada, but… Something was different.

" _Yeah! Take 'em down, Mr. Hero!_ " There were less children than Shouta had first counted back in the staff lounge.

" _It seems the children are cheering on the hero trying to save them! And, if I'm not mistaken, it seems like they've taken matters into their own hands, as well!"_

"What? What are they doing?" Nemuri must have turned the car because Shouta had to bite back any noises as his side slammed into the door. At least the speed meant they would be there soon even if a few years _were_ shaved off Shouta's life. "Shouta- Are the kids okay?"

"They're fine." Shouta tapped at the phone, pulling the video up into full screen and narrowing his eyes. The children were clever, at least. "One of them seems to have a quirk that moves concrete. They formed a hole in the street and are all getting into it."

"Yes! You go you clever little shits!" Swallowing a surge of nausea as the car _bounced_ , Shouta decided that he would not look out the windows. Plausible deniability might be of use after they dealt with this situation.

" _-possession of a quirk that has allowed him to manipulate the concrete road under the children's feet and form a sort of bunker for them to hide in- Hold on. It seems as if the child who did this is saying something to Present Mic…"_

" _-safe! You can fight without having to worry about us!"_ The child disappeared into the hole he had created before the concrete shifted like a wave and closed most of the opening. They weren't completely sealed, but it was enough to be out of the way and no longer in danger of being hit - by the villains or Yamada's quirk. Yamada seemed to realize it, as well.

" _What do you think? Kids are a lot smarter than I was at that age!"_ Yamada's smile was wide, but it was dangerous. A deep breath in, a steady stance, and Yamada didn't hesitate. He had been wrong in saying his quirk was a villain's quirk, but Yamada had never lied about it being powerful and dangerous.

Just as the villains began covering their ears, the footage cut out. There was a single second where Shouta felt like the world, and his heart, was completely still and silent. There was no sound, no footage, and it was almost as if time had frozen.

"What just happened? Shouta? Fuck- Okay, where's the site? Did you find out?" Rattling off the address that he had seen on the news app, Shouta finally glanced up to see that they had almost arrived. Nemuri had the sense to put on the flashing lights that she had stolen from a police car, at least. "Okay, we're almost there. Don't worry, Sho, our idiot is a _smart_ idiot. He'll be fine."

Shouta had always had a difficult time with words, but for once, for a single moment, they came so easily. "What if he's not?" Yamada's quirk was powerful and destructive, but he was in a position where it would hurt him just as much as it would his enemies. "He's not a pro, Nemuri. He's never trained for situations like this."

With pro heroes, a lot of it was training and thinking of creative uses for one's quirk. It was decades of shadowing other pros, learning the business from the ground up, and failing over and over again until those fails became rare. Yamada didn't have that. He didn't have the training. He could fight, but he had never been forced to think on what to do when facing multiple enemies and being unable to use his quirk as fully as he could.

"He's not a pro, but he is a hero." Nemuri's voice was quiet, but it was as steady as a rock. Shouta couldn't begin to explain how grateful it made him. "With pros, we rely on them to do their job and do it well. With _heroes_ , though… sometimes we just have to have a little faith."

A burst of static erupted from the phone and Shouta's gaze snapped back to it, sucking in a sharp breath when he saw just how bad it was. While over half of the villains were on the ground and unable to move, Yamada was swaying where he stood, blood streaming out from under his headphones and a few other places on his body. It was the harsh panting, however, that made Shouta realize that Yamada's speaker system was on the ground and broken into pieces.

"Drive faster, Nemuri." At the confused noise, Shouta tightened his grip on the phone. "His support equipment is busted." He needed that. Yamada _needed_ that speaker to regulate and control his quirk.

" _What dramatic fucking irony."_ The entire world seemed to be silent and all Shouta could hear was Yamada's voice. _"It's funny, don't you think?"_

" _And what, Yamada Hizashi, should I be finding funny?"_ Going off of what Yamada had already told him, Shouta could safely assume that the man who had just spoken was the main Trigger dealer in all of their other cases. A dealer who worked for the League of Villains, as well.

" _All of this! Here we are fighting because the entire world thinks I'm some_ _ **fucking**_ _hero!"_ Oh, Yamada… _"Why would anyone think I would have wanted to be a hero when heroes_ _ **abandoned**_ _me and other kids like me!"_

"Is he… monologuing?" Nemuri sounded skeptical, but Shouta realized what he was doing the second Nemuri asked. Present Mic was a show-off that loved to talk and grandstand and _stall_. Yamada was trying to buy time until the shield ran out or until a hero who could help was on the scene. He was trying to stall… but every word he said sounded like the truth.

"He's buying us all some time." With these villains it wouldn't last for long, but if Yamada was careful, then he could make it last just long enough.

" _My quirk manifested the day I was born. I gave a scream loud enough to destroy the hearing of both my birth parents and the doctor there and they gave me up the same day. Ah, well, I can't really blame them, though."_ Yamada's stance was loose and uncaring, a twisted little pout on his face as he shrugged and sighed. _"What parents would want such a destructive monster, after all?"_

" _Am I supposed to find it within me to care about your dark childhood, then? I can guarantee you that guilt is not something I much feel."_

" _Hey, hey, listener, you're talking to the one and only Present Mic, here! Guilt's never been a part my style, ya hear!"_ His voice was loud and boisterous and, when the camera was zoomed in, a green tint dulled his colors, but not the look in his eye. _"I'm just letting you know that your little party here ain't enough to bring me down. What's there to fear from_ _ **you**_ _?_

" _What the hell is there to fear from someone like you when I was muzzled and forced to keep my mouth shut to prevent my voice from ever being heard until I was_ _ **thirteen**_ _."_

"Oh, _Mic_." Nemuri, who had bonded with Yamada so quickly and had found a new best friend, has a voice that was filled with nothing except soft horror, and Shouta knew his own voice would sound exactly the same if he could find the breath to speak. He had always known that Yamada had a rough childhood. All the signs were there that he had been abused, but to hear it said quietly and with so much _venom_ … It would have been better if it was screamed.

" _There were no heroes around to save me. There were no_ _ **fucking heroes**_ _around to save people like me. There's never any care towards those with the quirk of a villain. People like me are lost and thrown away and shoved to the back and told over and over that our quirk is for no one except_ _ **villains**_ _. There were no heroes, then._

" _There didn't used to be heroes who tried to save those lost in the shadows."_ Didn't _used_ to be…? Oh, _Yamada_. There could be only one hero he was talking about and Shouta felt like he had lost his breath all over again.

" _I do so hope these words of yours have meaning, Yamada Hizashi. They're soon to be your last."_ The villains were moving forward again and the pros and news reporters on the scene were dead silent. Shouta glanced up just long enough to see that they were almost there. A few blocks, at most, and Shouta would be able to help and Yamada would be _safe_.

" _Meaning, huh? How about this, then… I'm not a villain, but I'm not a hero or a vigilante, either. I've made peace with the fact that there's no hope for someone like me. That doesn't mean I'm just going to stand aside and let these children lose their smiles, though. I can't- I_ _ **can't**_ _let them go through the same_ _ **shit**_ _that happened to me. So, you know what?"_

Yamada adjusted his stance, looked to the villains that were trying to kill him, and gave a smile that was as bright as All Might's. _"If a hero can't help them, then I'm the next best thing, aren't I?!"_

Shouta could hear Nemuri's tears as the Yamada sucked in a breath and _screamed_ , the footage cutting out completely. Shouta felt like his breathing stopped along with the footage, but he didn't let it stop his body. The second the car jerked to a stop, he was out the door and running down the streets, Nemuri right behind him as they dodged the police barriers, ignoring whatever yelling followed them.

The only yelling he could hear was Yamada's. A loud, high-pitched shriek that would have no doubt rendered the entire street deaf if that shield wasn't in place. If the man wasn't hard of hearing before, then he certainly would be after this. Shouta felt like his heart was near ready to pound its way out of his chest as the screams seemed to get even _louder_.

Then the screaming stopped and Shouta felt his heart stop along with it. Shouta was only absently aware of Nemuri talking to the pros on the scene as they reached the site, but all he could see was broken concrete where children were hiding, a group of four pinning down Yamada, and the sight of blood _everywhere_. Yamada was grinning, though.

He was laughing, and grinning, and looking straight at _him_. He was looking at Shouta. "Hey, asshole!" It would have been a shout at any other time, but as it was, it sounded like a _whisper_. With the chaos that had broken out, it was a miracle at all that Shouta could hear Yamada's words, cracked and broken and so _quiet_ as he yelled at the Trigger dealer who was looking a lot less calm.

The man looked enraged, and Yamada looked happy as he laughed again, lost, quiet, and broken words let out for the world, but given to Shouta, "What happens when your trump card over there has his quirk erased?"

Shouta didn't hesitate.


	18. Chapter 18

Hizashi didn't have to open his eyes to know he was in a hospital. Even without his glasses or hearing aids it was all too easy to pick up the overly bright lights, the smell of bleach, antiseptic, and blood, and the feeling of an uncomfortable bed that was just on the side of too firm.

Considering he hadn't been in a hospital since he was a teenager, it took him a few groggy seconds to try and figure out what he had done to end up there. Maybe the stove at his job had exploded and that meant he no longer had to deal with his villain of a boss. That would be worth the trip to the hospital.

Jeez, he hurt a lot worse than when his shoulder had been shot while doing his 'hero' work. His throat and neck, especially, hurt, which usually meant he had overused his quirk and…

Hizashi jerked up at realizing what must have happened, biting back a scream as he near tore his arm out of his socket, hazy vision focusing on where a silver pair of handcuffs - _quirk_ suppressing handcuffs - was keeping him chained to the hospital bed by the arm that wasn't hooked up to wires and medical equipment.

Right. Right, okay, Hizashi could think about this calmly. First, he didn't see his glasses anywhere, but that could just be because he couldn't really _see_ to find them. The bright lights weren't helping his headache, either, so Hizashi closed his eyes and tried to take a few deep breaths.

As it turned out, that was a _very bad idea_ because his throat suddenly felt like it was on _fire_. It took everything he had to not fall into a coughing fit because that, he was certain, would just make things bad enough that he would start crying. Hizashi really didn't want to start crying while in a hospital.

Getting control of himself, he noticed that his hearing aids were gone, too. Overall, he was unable to see, unable to hear, chained to a bed, and the pain from his throat felt like it was ready to tear him apart. Suffice to say, Hizashi mused, he must have had a very bad day.

It wasn't until he was starting to calm himself down that Hizashi remembered what _exactly_ had happened _before_ he woke up in a hospital. The details were fuzzy, at that moment, but Hizashi remembered enough to know that all of Japan, and by extension _the police_ , knew who he was and knew him as nothing more than a villain. How depressing.

At least he had survived the fight, he realized. There was also an almost forgotten memory of Aizawa coming to his rescue and, considering Hizashi was sure he hadn't had brain damage at the time, that probably meant it was true. Good. That meant the kids must have been safe and those villains dealt with.

Attempting to crack his eyes open again, Hizashi took a glance around the room he was in. There were no windows, the door was firmly shut, the lights were annoyingly _on_ , and his was the only bed in the room. A private room, then, without any windows. No doubt it was because his status as 'villain.'

He couldn't make heads or tails of what he was hooked up to or what it was showing about him, but he noticed he at least had a heart monitor and an IV drip of _something_. Hopefully it was pain medication because Hizashi felt like his body had been used as a chew toy by something really big with really sharp teeth.

Getting the urge to close his eyes again, Hizashi paused and squinted as he saw a blurry outline of a black rectangle. Careful of everything he was hooked up to, Hizashi carefully poked at the outline and felt smooth glass. It was a phone, he guessed, and, judging by the cracked screen, it was _his_ phone.

Hizashi snatched it up in an instant, wincing at the extra light on his already battered eyes. He could at least squint enough to find out the time and date, nodding to himself as he saw it was three in the afternoon. That wasn't too bad, but it was the date that showed _tomorrow's_ date that had him almost falling into another panic attack. Had he really been unconscious for over _twenty-four hours_?

He couldn't even call it sleeping when he still felt so exhausted! Fuck, he was supposed to have been at work and he hadn't even been able to call in. Wondering if he could still fix it, Hizashi squinted and worked his phone one-handed, wincing at the pressure it put on the IV needle. It wasn't like he could use his other hand, though, seeing as he was _handcuffed_.

Right, okay, messages from his boss; ugh, _multiple_ messages. That was never a good sign. A quick scan through showed that, if nothing else, he would have a lot of free time in the future. Being fired over the phone was a new low, though, even for that slimy little bastard- Oh. Right. His identity had been broadcasted over national television, hadn't it?

Hizashi took a steady breath through his nose, trying to stay calm as he went over the facts. So far, he had been asleep for over a day, he was chained to a hospital bed, he had been outed as a villain, and he had just been fired from his job. His phone was also flashing a low battery symbol and about to die in his hand as his head pounded from all the light and the unnerving silence started getting to him.

He was just starting to think it couldn't get any worse when he saw the door start to open. Hizashi dropped his phone and his arm, screwing his eyes shut and falling back to lean against the obscene number of pillows behind him and now almost grateful for his missing hearing aids. At least now he could put off whatever lecture was coming; whether it was from the police or the doctors or some weird mix of the two.

There was silence, _as always_ , and Hizashi started bracing himself before… the lights were turned off? Cracking his eyes open, Hizashi saw nothing but blissful darkness and a vague, shadowy shape moving around the room. Maybe if he closed his eyes again, he could pretend to be asleep? It was better than anything else, seeing as now his _eyes_ were burning.

That officially left no part of his body that _wasn't_ hurting and Hizashi was almost frustrated enough to start crying. Before he could give in to the urge, there was the feeling of soft, dim light filling the room and then the feeling of hands on his arm and Hizashi had to fight not to jerk away as he felt something cold and wet wiping around the needle.

It took a moment, but Hizashi realized that he must have caused some bleeding where he had his arm bent, earlier, and the doctor, or nurse, was wiping away the blood. At least they weren't trying to ask him questions - or, if they were, Hizashi didn't hear them.

His phone was taken next, Hizashi hoping that it was at least just set down again instead of taken away from him altogether. Starting to relax, Hizashi tensed back up as he felt something touching his ear and _he really did not like that_ -

"-looking like I'm going to kill you. Oi, can you hear me? I don't know how these things are supposed to work." The low, sleepy drawl of Aizawa Shouta had Hizashi jerking back up, eyes wide before they were focusing on a pair of glasses being held in front of him. "Sorry I couldn't find any of your sunglasses."

"Aw, Eraser, that's so sweet of you!" Hizashi tried to say - _tried_ seeing as the second he started talking it felt like his throat was _on fire_ , no noise escaping besides a broken, jagged whimper that his hearing aid picked up all too well.

"Hey, hey, easy." Hizashi felt a warm, steady hand rubbing circles on his back and then the feeling of a plastic straw against his lips. Hizashi focused on the straw, first, sucking down water and, again, almost crying. It was almost worrying how strong and often the urge was getting, Hizashi mused to himself before taking a few moments to try and steady himself. 

"I know this might be an impossible task for you, but don't try to speak for a while." Aizawa's voice was a low, concerned mumble, soft and easy on his hearing as the man worked on hooking his other hearing aid around his ear. "These are some spare aids that the hospital had. The doctor said you should know how to adjust them yourself."

Settling for giving a shaky thumbs-up, Hizashi took another sip of water before pushing the cup away. As Aizawa set it back on the nightstand, Hizashi took a moment to fiddle with his hearing aids one-by-one, softening the sounds and giving another thumbs-up when they were at the level they roughly should be.

"Right. Nod or shake your head, do you remember why you're here?" Ah, straight to the point as always, his hero. Hizashi nodded, noting that Aizawa… hadn't removed his hand from his back. He was still rubbing little circles against Hizashi's spine, small and soft as if he didn't even realize he was doing it.

Hizashi made absolutely sure he wasn't going to cry at the soft touch before leaning into it, making a mental note to blame whatever was in the IV drip later. Remembering he had been asked a question, Hizashi nodded in answer, noticing a bit of tension leak out of the man.

"Good. That means you know what I'm talking about when I call you an _absolute idiot_." Well, that was a little harsh. "As soon as you're out of this hospital I'm going to give you an entire lecture I give to my students in the first _week_ of class about how _not to be a dumbass_." An entire lecture, huh? That sounded like it could be fun if Aizawa was the teacher…

Feeling a light pinch to his back, Hizashi gave the man an exaggerated pout, _swearing_ he saw Aizawa _blushing_. It had to have been the pain meds. "You and Nemuri are too much alike, I swear." Nemuri…? Oh, right, Midnight. "What hurts the most right now?"

Hizashi pointed to this throat without pause, a bit worried at Aizawa's expression. It was a frown, as was the usual with him, but he also looked so _worried_. Hizashi resisted the urge to clear his throat or try to talk again, instead waiting for Aizawa to speak first. He was almost surprised he didn't have to wait a century for that to happen.

"You overused your quirk, but you also… Do you remember the end of the fight? Right as me and Midnight got there?" Thinking about it and making a face, Hizashi waggled his hand to try and convey a 'sort of.' "They had you pinned." Ah, they had, hadn't they?

Let's see… Hizashi remembered feeling a lot of pain, he remembered seeing Eraserhead and then the disappearance of that awful shield, and then… Hizashi touched his fingers to his throat for the first time, feeling thick bandages wrapped around his neck. Bandages like this wouldn't be used just for bruising.

"They managed to directly attack your neck since they were trying to stop you from using your quirk. You were in surgery for a while last night and early this morning." Stop him from using his quirk, huh? Depending on how they did that, it was quite possibly a miracle that Hizashi was still…

"You're lucky you're alive," Aizawa mumbled, soft and quiet and hand on his back forming a fist that was clutching at Hizashi's hospital gown. Since he was unable to speak, Hizashi settled for turning his head just enough to kiss at that scar under Aizawa's eye, pulling back after a moment and biting his lip.

There was a second where Aizawa blinked, looking surprised and completely caught off guard before Hizashi felt lips pressing against his own, soft and sweet and so unlike the first and last kiss they had shared.

Hizashi wasn't sure how long it lasted, whether it was a second or a lifetime, but when Aizawa pulled back, he looked a lot less stressed, rubbing at Hizashi's back again. The two were both silent for a few moments before Aizawa finally straightened up, moving to pull a chair over and take a seat in it.

"The kids are all alright, by the way. All of them were accounted for and none of them have more than a scratch or two." Aizawa was a mind reader and Hizashi had never been happier for that, it felt like; although he was a little bummed that Aizawa was no longer so close and rubbing at his back because that had been _nice_. "They also made you a card."

Wait, what? Hizashi looked over to see that Aizawa was holding up a little cardboard card with a cartoon of a bird with a bright yellow crest on it. Aizawa then flipped it open and Hizashi saw that it was scribbled all over with kind words and addressed to 'Mr. Hero.' In the end, Hizashi figured he couldn't be blamed for crying at _that_.

Taking a minute or two to wipe at his eyes, Hizashi startled and looked over when he saw Aizawa's hands moving… _Oh_.

' _I know sign, by the way._ ' Aizawa _signed_ and then looked back to Hizashi with a _smirk_. Hizashi wasn't sure if he wanted to punch him or drag him back over for another kiss. Oh, who was he kidding, he _definitely_ wanted to drag him back over for another kiss. Sadly, though, it seemed that would have to wait.

Moving to finally ask the questions he had, Hizashi winced and dropped his shoulders when he felt the hand that was handcuffed draw up short. So much for signing. Maybe he could pout enough that Aizawa would feel pity and pick the lock like he was already doing. Wait.

"I don't even know why they cuffed you," Aizawa muttered, Hizashi's heart speeding up at how close the man was as he leaned over him to get at the lock. Where did he even _find_ lockpicking tools? Did he just carry those around- Shit, the device monitoring his heart rate was getting louder. "It's not like you're about to run for it."

Okay, good, Aizawa didn't seem to notice. At least, that was what Hizashi thought before the man was giving him a quick, nowhere _near_ as soft kiss, _smirking at him_ when Hizashi's heart rate shot up again and _this man was a horrible human being_.

' _You're awful_.' Hizashi signed as soon as he could, glaring at Aizawa as he sat back down and looked _smug_. ' _Are all of those kids really alright? What's been happening while I've been out?_ '

"Ah, well…" Aizawa trailed off, scratching at the scruff on his cheek and not quite looking at him. Hizashi didn't like that. He _really_ didn't like that. "The kids are safe, but… Japan seems to be heralding the rise of the newest hero Present Mic." Japan what now? "Apparently Present Mic is one of the most promising new heroes on the scene in a while."

Aizawa looked back to him, expression softening to a smile as he gave a quiet laugh, "The kids were interviewed, and they promised to start a fan club for you. Oh, yeah, your hero ranking right now is 46, by the way."

This time it took a lot longer for Hizashi to stop crying, Aizawa only smiling at him and mentioning little pieces of information from time to time as he tried to calm down. It wasn't anything as big as _being the number forty-six in all of Japan among heroes_ , but it was nice, little things.

Aizawa's homeroom class had wanted to throw some kind of slumber party with the kids from other classes and had managed to break every window on the first floor. Shinsou had invented his own move with the binding cloth that Aizawa used as Eraserhead and then _used it on him_. Aizawa let him know he was equally annoyed and proud. Midnight, too, came up, Aizawa mentioning that she had been blowing up his phone every few hours asking for updates.

Overall, the man just kept talking. He sounded bored and tired as always, but he never let there be too long a moment of silence. It was enough to make Hizashi cry for a few minutes longer than he probably should have.

Finally, he got control of himself enough to start finger-spelling out Eraser, startled when Aizawa shook his head before Hizashi felt his heart almost stop when he heard the words, "Just call me Shouta."

Hizashi stared, unable to even try to say anything because… He would really give Hizashi a gift like that? They had been _villain and hero_ for so longand yet he would give Hizashi the gift of using his given name? Just like that?

"Oh, right, here's how you sign it." As with most sign languages, names were made up of different signs to give them a personalized feel and help distinguish them. Hizashi had to cover his mouth and fight not to laugh, though, because the signs Shouta used for his name were the signs for _cat_ and _sleep_.

"Oi, oi, stop laughing," Ai- _Shouta_ complained, looking more amused than upset. "A student gave it to me a few years ago and I was too lazy to ever bother changing it, is all."

' _More like you liked that student too much to bother changing it._ ' The silence was an answer all its own, Hizashi supposed. ' _Fine, but you have to call me by my own name._ ' Fingerspelling his name, first, Hizashi followed it up with his own personalized signs; the ones for microphone and sun.

"Hizashi, hm?" Shouta was grinning in a way that made it seem as if he knew something Hizashi didn't, yet, and… Yamada Hizashi. The civilian barista who Eraserhead had saved and then helped home. That meant he _knew_ \- "Oh, before you try to panic again, I knew it was you that night I helped you with your shoulder."

' _I knew it! I knew you were too smug about something that night!_ ' Hizashi had been worrying himself to _death_ over that night and so _of course_ Shouta had already known everything! That meant he was fully aware of who Hizashi was when he told him he could be a hero. He… He had known the entire time.

"Yeah. I knew." Shouta knew all too well what he had been saying and who he had been saying it _to_ and he still had believed every word of it. "Looks like I was right, though."

Hizashi covered his mouth for a moment, remembering those quiet words of, _"I have a feeling that you would be an amazing hero, Yamada."_

Trying not to cry, because he really had done far too much of that already, Hizashi instead dropped his hands and gave a small smile and carefully signed, ' _My cat's name is Snowball, in case you forgot._ '

"Mine is Jelly," Shouta laughed, a warm and fond smile on his face. "It seemed like a good idea at the time." Hizashi was so stupidly in love with this man. Half-ready to say as much, both paused when there was a knock on the door.

Hizashi swallowed as he saw it open to reveal an older man who was going gray and, after a second glance, showed he was no doubt the doctor for this ward. Hizashi was already bracing himself when he saw the man reach to the turn light on.

"Leave it off," Shouta spoke up, startling the doctor and Hizashi both. "He has light sensitivity. What do you need?"

"Oh, Eraserhead, you're still here. Good." The doctor walked in and fluttered around the bed for a minute or two, checking on everything and jotting down notes in an annoyingly silent way until he was done. "Can I talk to you out in the hall for a moment?"

"Sure," Shouta sighed, standing up with a little grumble, not moving away from Hizashi until the doctor was halfway back to the door. Hizashi appreciated it more than he could currently say, but he had a feeling Shouta already knew that.

"Oh, and he's supposed to still be handcuffed, you know." Oh, right. Shouta had taken off the handcuffs earlier, hadn't he? Jeez, here he was beat up and could hardly move and they were still worried about him and his quirk. "He may not be a threat at the moment, but for safety's sake-"

"He'll be good," Shouta interrupted, Hizashi trying to figure out what sort of joke he could make before he felt fingers skimming along his jaw, tilting his gaze up to where he could meet Shouta's, the man giving him a look that had him shivering, words drawled out low and quiet. "Won't you?"

In that moment, Hizashi realized there was very little he wouldn't be willing to do when Shouta asked him like _that_. He was quick to nod, flushing as Shouta ducked in to press lips against his temple, soft words near a whisper against his skin that sounded out a soft, " _Good boy._ "

A second later and Shouta was walking to the door, perfectly composed in parallel to the strangled wheezing sound Hizashi was making as he patted his cheeks, staring down at his blankets as the door was left cracked open.

He tried to gather his thoughts together because while he certainly hadn't known he was into something like that, _he was definitely into something like that_. Right, right. Okay. He needed to focus. Actually, he should probably try to listen to what the doctor was saying to Shouta.

It took a bit of fiddling with his hearing aids, but with the door cracked Hizashi was at least able to make out that they were talking about his quirk, the words getting a bit louder when one of them bumped into the door and it opened a bit more.

"-this point it's safe to say that there's little doubt that he's lost the ability to use his quirk." Oh, they must have been talking about someone else. One of the villains he had fought, maybe? Hizashi wondered what had happened.

Shouta's voice was harder to hear where he was so quiet, but Hizashi still managed to catch all of it, "There's still a chance, though?"

"Well, there's always a chance, Eraserhead, but realistically…" Damn, Hizashi almost felt sorry for whoever this was. "There's also the matter of recovering his normal voice, as well. There's a very real chance he might never be able to effectively speak again."

Hizashi swallowed, slowly lifting a hand to trace at the bandages around his throat. Someone else must have hurt their throat at the fight, too, then. Hizashi wouldn't be surprised. It had been a chaotic end.

He remembered that he himself had been pinned down and he remembered the shield falling. One of the villains, though, had a spike quirk and Hizashi remembered, just vaguely, feeling like he was being strangled before there had been such a sharp _sting_ coming from his neck. It had hurt.

Even with how exhausted and painful everything was, it was that sharp, stinging pain from his neck that had hurt _so much_. Strangely enough, after that, it felt like he had been drowning, and he couldn't tell if it was memory or imagination that made him 'remember' hearing Shouta screaming his name.

He had been strangled, then a sharp sting, and then the feeling of drowning, and then Shouta screaming his name… Hizashi felt the bandages around his neck again. They really were too thick just to cover up some bruises. It made more sense if they were covering up some sort of cut. Shouta said he had been in surgery, too. If his neck had been cut deep enough, then whoever they were talking about in the hallway could have been him. It wasn't, though. It _couldn't_. He was fine. He was _fine_.

"Hizashi…" Jolting at the quiet, _pained_ sound of his name, Hizashi shuddered as he felt Shouta's hand cupping his cheek and wiping away _tears_. It seemed Hizashi had been crying again. "How much did you hear?"

Ah, and there it was. Hizashi could lie to himself for as long as he wanted, but he had never quite been able to lie to Eraserhead; and Shouta he could _never_ lie to.

' _Who am I without my voice?_ ' He hated his voice and quirk more than anything in the world, some days, and he had spent _so long_ running away from them, but it was who he was. He was the _Voice Vi_ … Hero? The Voice… ' _Who am I without my quirk?_ '

His hands were shaking, but Hizashi couldn't stop himself from trying to ask his questions. It wasn't like he'd ever be able to _speak_ his questions again, a fact that made everything _hurt_ as he tried to take steady breaths through his tears. ' _Does that make me better, now, Shouta? Does it make it better now that I don't have a quirk? That's probably better, isn't it? To be quirkless rather than to be a villain?_ '

It wasn't fair, though. Hizashi hadn't even gotten the _chance_ to change before it was all over for him. ' _Maybe this is for the best, right? It's probably better-_ ' Hizashi startled as his hands were grabbed and held softly, fingers linking with his before Hizashi felt lips nudge and press against his own, giving him a distraction that he didn't hesitate to take.

This time Hizashi pressed back just as much Shouta, freeing his hands and wrapping them around Shouta's shirt, tugging him _closer_ , too scared to pull away and ask what this meant for them.

It was a lot longer before they pulled away this time, Hizashi still pathetically shaking and crying, breath hitching when he felt Shouta kiss at the tears still rolling down his cheeks. Hizashi didn't even get to try and ask any other questions before Shouta was asking one himself, voice sounding as wrecked as Hizashi's would if he could still speak.

"Go out with me?" Not even Hizashi could pretend Shouta meant that as anything than what it was. There was no way to confuse the fact that Shouta, even after all this, still _wanted him_.

Hizashi was near sobbing when he managed to bring his hands up to sign yes over and over until Shouta grabbed his hands and pulled him into a kiss that was harder than all the ones before it. It was rough, hard, utterly consuming, and impossible to think of anything else.

Hizashi couldn't find it within him to do anything but press back, hands gripping at Shouta's tight enough to no doubt leave bruises. That was okay, though. It was all okay. Hizashi didn't need his hands or voice to speak to Shouta, after all.

He knew without a doubt, just like every other time before, Shouta heard him loud and clear.


	19. Chapter 19

' _I'm not sure I like the idea of this_.' Gaze tracking Hizashi's rapid signing that betrayed his nerves, Shouta tried to think of something reassuring he could say.

"If you want to stay out of jail for all your previous charges, you need someone in high power on your side." Shouta had half a thought that Hizashi might not find this as encouraging as Shouta wanted him to. "It's logical, isn't it? Now that you're a public figure, the Hero Commissions is going to be out for blood to protect the image of heroes."

The disgusted expression Hizashi made spoke volumes, Shouta mused. Them talking to Nedzu, however, really was the best option for them. Hizashi had been released from the hospital only two days ago and since then it had been a whirlwind of getting parole custody of Hizashi, dodging the police and heroes who thought he deserved to be behind bars, and hiding from any and all attempts at someone recognizing the former villain.

It was the reason that, despite all his pouting and protests, Hizashi was hiding under a baseball cap, a worn out U.A. hoodie from Shouta's third year with the hood pulled over his hair, a pair of _normal_ looking sunglasses, and a pair of distressed jeans that fit his figure better than should be possible.

' _Are you absolutely sure this is the only way out of this? Maybe I can do some community service or something!_ ' Hizashi looked dramatically desperate, but Shouta could see the tension coiled in his shoulders, fingers twitching as if they wanted to rub at the bandages that were still wrapped around his throat.

"Just trust me," Shouta said quietly. Since they were alone and patiently waiting outside of Nedzu's office in the school hallways where everyone was in class, Shouta didn't hesitate to cup Hizashi's cheek and rub at the skin, smiling when the man leaned into the touch with a soft, voiceless sigh. "We wouldn't be here if I thought it wouldn't help."

' _That's cheating, Shouta_ ,' Hizashi signed, features softer than before, anyways, as he relaxed. The only other time he _had_ relaxed the past few days was when he and Shouta had went on their 'date.'

Considering Hizashi was impatient and had self-worth issues and Shouta was just as impatient after _months_ of teasing and dance around the feeling between them, their date had been watching dumb movies while eating takeout on Shouta's couch. Shouta had fallen asleep surrounded by half-empty containers of rice and noodles and Hizashi sleeping soundly on his chest. It had been, in Shouta's opinion, the perfect date.

"It's either this or we deal with the Hero Commission on our own." The returning expression was answer enough, Shouta snorting as he dropped his hand.

' _You know, it's the Commission that leads people to become villains like I did. I mean, they're just so awful! All they do is make things difficult and make it harder and harder to help people!_ ' It was both fascinating and rather sweet how Hizashi managed to ramble while signing. ' _Hey, hey, Shouta, are you listening to me? Shouta! I know you can see my hands moving! Stop ignoring me, Shouta!_ '

Shouta kept 'accidentally' looking away, hiding a smile behind his binding cloth as Hizashi pouted and ranted. It was fun to wind Hizashi up. The man was always so loud, expressive, and over-the-top; even without his voice.

The door opened before Shouta could figure out how to tease Hizashi even more, Nedzu waving them in with a cheery greeting, "Come on in, you two!"

The office was the same as it had been for the last few years, Shouta taking a seat in one of the armchairs in front of Nedzu's desk and motioning for Hizashi to do the same. It was an effort not to worry when he saw how nervous Hizashi was, cautiously sitting down and scanning the room for what was no doubt potential dangers and a quick way of getting out if something went wrong.

"Well, well, it's so nice to finally meet you, Yamada-san! I've heard quite a bit about you from my teachers on your work and the good you've been doing for our community. I've even heard that you helped to save one of our students, at one point, something I'm remarkably grateful for!"

' _Shouta, did you just lead me into a trap? He's way too cheerful for this to not be a trap._ ' Hizashi's signs were sharper and less pronounced, hands kept close to his body as if he was trying to quiet himself even as he _signed_.

' _He's odd, but you would know if Nedzu meant you any harm. He doesn't much believe in playing kind when there's no need for it_ ,' Shouta signed back, waiting until Hizashi relaxed to look back to Nedzu. "He says it's nice to meet you."

Nedzu smiled and there was a glint that reminded Shouta of the days when he was his homeroom teacher. It was a look that, all things considered, inspired a large amount of fear within him. He was proven right when Nedzu said, "There's no need to play translator for him, Eraser, I can understand Japanese Sign Language quite proficiently!"

Shouta blinked, grateful that they at least hadn't said anything too embarrassing before Nedzu revealed _that_ piece of information. It was a kindness Shouta didn't expect, honestly. "I'll keep that in mind, Principal," Shouta finally said, glancing at where Hizashi was flushed red and looking embarrassed.

"I'll just be speaking for today," Nedzu continued, looking at Hizashi. "I'm afraid that while I understand it, I'm not able to use it as well as I would like. Sadly, paws aren't very useful when it comes to the more intricate signs."

' _Oh, of course, that's no problem at all! I can hear you perfectly well right now, Principal Nedzu!_ ' Hizashi signed out quickly, tension looking as if it flowed back into him at full force. He was going to end up dying younger than _Shouta_ if he kept letting himself stress out so much.

"Simply Nedzu is fine," Nedzu smiled. "The signs for my name would be rat, bear, and dog, actually, so feel free to use them as needed!"

Shouta decided that the quicker they moved on from _that_ conversation, the better. "You wanted to talk with us about the situation involving him, Principal?"

"Ah, yes." While Nedzu had called them there to help Hizashi, Shouta knew it was going to be more than _just_ to help. Nedzu always had reasons for his actions and kindness. "As of right now the public is largely in favor of Present Mic. The government and other pro heroes, however, are a different story."

That was an understatement. While 'Present Mic' was already ranked like a pro hero would be, it was largely public opinion that was behind that. The Hero Commission was still adamant that Hizashi be put on trial for all his 'crimes.' It was ridiculous considering the worst thing that Hizashi had ever done was take a bar hostage for karaoke.

"It is true that the police seem to believe that Yamada-san here has broken the law quite a number of times in regards to using his quirk. He also has been a public menace, obstructed justice, and been a danger to society." At each new word Nedzu spoke, Hizashi was curling up more and more.

The only reason Shouta wasn't interrupting was because he knew Nedzu was going _somewhere_ with this. That didn't mean he couldn't reach out and take Hizashi's hand, though, squeezing it lightly. Hizashi stole a glance at him for just a moment, but Shouta saw at least _some_ of the weight on his shoulders seep out of him.

"After hearing other accounts, however, it sounds to me as if the police have managed to gather quite the misunderstanding! Yamada-san, did you ever use your quirk when you felt as if you _weren't_ in some sort of physical harm?"

It took a moment, but Hizashi finally freed his hand from Shouta's before signing carefully, expression neutral, ' _No. Since my debut, for lack of a better word, every use of my quirk has been in some form of defense or when I deemed the situation had no other means of resolution._ '

That… was true. Shouta couldn't recall a time where Present Mic had used his quirk in harm of others. It had always been to defend himself just enough to leave a situation or it had been in the defense of others; not including the time he demolished a whole city block, but that was never on record since Nemuri hadn't taken him in that night.

"I see." Nedzu looked to Shouta, the gleam in his eyes brighter. "Pro Hero Eraserhead. Would you label Yamada Hizashi, also known as Present Mic, a public menace?"

Thinking about it, Shouta finally gave a truthful shake of his head. "No, I wouldn't." A nuisance, maybe, but he had never been a _menace_. The worst he had ever done, barring the karaoke stunt that people could have walked away from if they weren't so drunk, was cleaning out a bartender of some top shelf whiskey.

"Would you say Present Mic has ever obstructed justice in any capacity?" Nedzu was still politely smiling, but Hizashi was starting to grin. That, if nothing else, made this entire meeting worth it.

"No, I wouldn't." The only pro hero Hizashi had ever run up against in a fight beside him was Nemuri, after all, and every other pro after that had been ones that Hizashi had _helped_.

"And would you say that he's a danger to society?" That, Shouta decided, was the easiest question, yet.

"No more so than one of my students." Because while Hizashi had been a 'villain,' he had done good more than he had ever done harm.

Nedzu have Shouta the same look he always gave when Shouta played along with his schemes, smiling as he looked back to Hizashi. "There we have it, then. I'd be quite willing to testify in court as needed that you, self-proclaimed villain or not, have never broken any government laws that would label you negatively."

Nedzu hopped off his chair and began moving around the room to look for something, ruffling through cabinets and folders. Shouta was assuming he was giving Hizashi time to pull himself together considering Shouta already saw tears forming.

"If you're going to piss the Commission off, at least wait until we get our funding in for the year," Shouta drawled, pulling at Hizashi's chair and moving it closer until they were near pressed together, Hizashi giving him a soft smile. Shouta knew, without a doubt, that there were a lot of stupid things he would do for that smile.

"I'm afraid that might not be possible as I'm about to make them much angrier!" Oh. That was… Hm. Nedzu usually was fond of making people guess what he was, or wasn't, going to do, so to hear him come out and say something so straightforward was… interesting. "Now, Yamada-san. I understand that you're looking for work seeing as your last job ended your position with them due to villainous tendencies, correct?"

"He what." Shouta snapped his gaze to Hizashi, who was suddenly _much_ more interested in looking around Nedzu's office. "I thought you said you were given time off!"

' _Well, if we're being technical, I was given time off. It was just… a very long amount of time_ ,' Hizashi signed, smiling weakly and fidgeting with his hat and glasses as if trying to look away from Shouta's expression without looking away. ' _It's really not that bad._ '

"Well, regardless of the circumstances, I might have a solution for that, as well." Wait. Was Nedzu about to _hire_ Hizashi to work for _U.A._? "I knew your name was familiar when I heard it and it turns out I was right! I went through some old records and it turns out you applied for U.A. when you were younger, correct?"

' _I did._ ' The signs were hesitant and slow, Hizashi looking as surprised as Shouta felt. ' _I never attended, though. I don't even think I was accepted._ '

"Well, we did try to contact you, but I'm afraid we never quite managed." A student folder was set down on Nedzu's desk before he returned to his seat, but Shouta was caught up on the fact that it was _Hizashi's_ student folder.

"You never mentioned you _applied_ for U.A.," Shouta said softly, frowning as he noticed Hizashi was still and silent, all previous motions of fidgeting and constant movement now gone. Nedzu didn't seem to mind, plowing on with the tact of the non-human creature he was.

"He did! He also scored the highest scores in the history of the written exam. Your record has still never been broken. It's quite impressive, really!"

It was obvious that Hizashi was smart considering he built his own support gear and had been playing the system for almost a year, but Shouta had never known the man was _that_ smart. A glance to Hizashi and Shouta realized he was absolutely shocked, which, good. Maybe that information would help improve the man's view of himself.

"Now, I've discussed a few options with some of the other teachers, and we have a few different choices on how to proceed." 'Some' of the other teachers. Apparently one of them wasn't Shouta. "The one I wish to truly discuss, however, is that I would like to formally hire you and bring you on as a teacher at U.A. There would be quite the amount of paperwork to fill out, of course, and you would need to pass exams for a teaching license, but you seem the perfect person to teach our students classes in sign language."

Oh. That was… That was brilliant. Hizashi would be protected from the government by U.A., he could work out a deal to pay off any outstanding warrants or fines by doing community service with the school with volunteer classes until the classes could be made official, and it was something he could do without needing use of his voice.

' _It can't be that simple._ ' Hizashi signed the words, but Shouta had been a second behind in saying them. It really _couldn't_ be that simple, could it? Not after everything that had happened. Then again, maybe it would be that simple _because_ of everything that had happened.

"I don't see why not. You're quite intelligent and would have no problem getting your credentials, and, as I said, there are no outstanding laws that you have broken to prevent you from taking such a post. Hm, we might as well as throw everything together and get you your licenses for hero work and the ability to make support items, as well. Your speaker system was really quite ingenious!"

Hizashi looked to be frozen in time and Shouta couldn't blame him. He had only found out a few days ago that his quirk might be forever _gone_ and yet here he was being offered the chance to get a hero license.

' _Nedzu-san, my quirk is gone. My voice is gone. There would be no point in obtaining a license for being a hero, of all things._ _Not to mention I'm a villain!_ '

"Oh? The way it was explained to me you were merely an over eager member of the community who often helped when a hero was unable to arrive on the scene in time. Quite the asset, if you ask me! As for your quirk…" Nedzu _smiled_ , an honest and genuine _smile_ , and Shouta was surprised by how large an amount of hope he felt at that action alone. If _Nedzu_ thought there was a chance that Hizashi could get his voice and quirk back…

The door slammed open before anything else could be said, Shouta feeling nothing except _fear_ , "Aizawa Shouta how _dare_ you not tell me that my newest best friend is here!"

Hizashi perked up and spun around in his seat, _beaming_ at seeing Nemuri in the doorway. Shouta regretted the day they ever met, but at least Hizashi was smiling and no longer looking ready to have some sort of breakdown.

"Yamada, Yamada, Yamada, we have _so_ much to catch up on!" Nemuri was like a whirlwind in human form, sweeping up Hizashi out of his seat, checking him over, and cooing at him nonstop about how worried they all were about him.

"Ah, perfect timing, Midnight! Perhaps you would be kind enough to show Yamada-san to the teacher's lounge? He might be seeing quite a bit of it, soon enough."

"He accepted?" Oh, so Nemuri was a traitor who would need to die. Alright. Shouta would need to remember to take care of that before they left the school. "Wonderful! Come on, dear, let's go and tell everyone about our stunning new language teacher!"

Not even a minute later and the room was filled with ringing silence, Shouta taking a moment to wrap his mind over what had just happened. It _sounded_ like Hizashi would not only recover enough to use his quirk again, but he would be hired at the school and have a decent job while being completely safe and protected.

Looking up at Nedzu, Shouta saw the principal already had his attention on him. Shouta didn't bother dancing around the subject, merely asking a blunt, "Do you really think he'll regain the use of his quirk?"

"I do." Nedzu was rarely wrong when it came to things like this. "I've seen the medical files for him myself, after all. While he'll never regain quirk use compared to what it was before this incident, I believe a few sessions with Recovery Girl will get him back to where he needs to be. Thankfully, as a soon-to-be teacher of this school, she'll have plenty of time to look him over and help him heal! A happy ending all around, don't you think?"

This was all too easy. Happy endings like this didn't just _happen_ after this much suffering and turmoil. There was no way they would be lucky enough to be together and _not_ have to worry about the next bad thing around the corner. Real life didn't work like that and it never had.

There were no happy endings in the life of a pro hero, and yet Shouta couldn't help but think that Hizashi made him _want_ to believe in happy endings.

"If you'll excuse me, Eraser, I have some new teacher paperwork to put together. Feel free to stop by for tea later, however, and bring Yamada-san with you!"

"Of course, Principal," Shouta nodded, standing up and burying his smile under the layers of his scarf as he left the office. The halls were still silent, classes either still going on or having switched for new teachers.

Standing in the hall for a moment, Shouta felt his shock leave for a giddy sense of relief and lightness as he allowed himself to chuckle and start his walk towards the staff lounge.

"A happy ending, huh?" It didn't sound like such a bad thing.


	20. Chapter 20

"How is it fair that I now get my ass kicked by _both_ of you in training? It's not fair that Mic still trains with us, too, now. Like, okay, maybe at first that was fine because of the whole quirk thing, but isn't he already licensed? This is bullshit and you know it, Sensei! Training is supposed to be _easier_ the stronger I get, isn't it?"

"Hey, hey, language," Hizashi chided, kneeling over Hitoshi and inspecting the teen to make sure he was actually alright and not too badly hurt. It would be just like him to claim he was fine even with a broken _bone_. Hizashi knew that much and he had only been training with Shouta and Hitoshi for a couple of months.

Shouta, instead of being worried and fretting, only yawned and looked bored. Honestly, Eraserhead may have been an amazing hero, but Shouta was so _lazy_ , mumbling a bored, "If you have enough breath to complain, then you have enough left to go another round."

Hitoshi groaned the exact same way Shouta did when he didn't want to leave the bed in the morning, and it took a moment for Hizashi to stop himself from letting out a laugh. Instead he focused on pulling Hitoshi up to at least be sitting, the teen giving him a quick, tired smile before pulling himself up the rest of the way.

"Do we really have to go another round?" Hitoshi whined, tired and bored and entire body tensed and ready to move at the slightest threat. Hizashi was more proud than he could say, so instead he settled for stepping back and watching the gleam of pride in Shouta's eyes as he charged and Hitoshi neatly dodged to the side. "Aw, come on, it's rude not to answer a question, Sensei."

"You used to be a lot more respectful, you know," Shouta shot back along with a nasty kick, Hitoshi blocking it with crossed arms before the two were going all out. Honestly, neither of them knew what it meant to take it easy.

Leaning against the wall of the empty gym on U.A. grounds, Hizashi sat down on the ground and watched the two spar as he let his thoughts drift once again to all that had happened since he had walked into U.A. four months ago without a voice and with little to no hope. It had certainly been a busy few months, Hizashi would say that.

Not only had he taken all his exams and been approved for a hero license, a teaching license, _and_ a license to build support gear, but he had also regained the use of his quirk; even if it was weaker than it used to be. That part hadn't been easy, but it had been easi _er_ with Shouta staying by his side throughout every moment of the frustrating process.

Shouta… He had stayed with Hizashi even when it looked like Hizashi might _not_ regain the use of his quirk or all of his words. He had stayed and he had essentially _kidnapped_ Hizashi and dragged him and Snowball to his much nicer apartment, and then Hitoshi had squirmed his way into his heart and honestly it was just…

Hizashi couldn't believe this was his life. He was a hero. He was a pro hero and he had his own _radio show_ , even, and he was a _teacher_ and he had this amazing man who loved him, this great kid who was a delightful little shit, and these students who all seemed to care about him so much and it was just _overwhelming_.

"Hey." Jumping at the sudden voice, Hizashi blinked to see Shouta was kneeling in front of him and holding out a half-empty bottle of water, expression edging towards concern. "You alright?"

"Oh- Yeah! Of course! Just lost in my thoughts." Hizashi took the water with a kiss to Shouta's cheek, grinning as the pink flush from his sparring match grew just a touch darker. "You two finally done beating the crap out of each other?"

"He was taking it easy on me," Hitoshi complained loudly, Hizashi hiding behind the water bottle as he watched Shouta roll his eyes and stand back up.

"That's because last week you had a _fever_ and the last thing I need is another problem child who doesn't understand how to take care of himself."

Shaking his head as the two argued, Hizashi stood up and breathed out a soft sigh as he let his thoughts settle. His new life was overwhelming, sure, but he knew he wouldn't change it for anything in the world.

"Alright, alright, stop arguing, you two. We have dinner reservations to get to, after all!" Hizashi clapped his hands together, pausing when he saw Hitoshi's confused expression. "Shouta, you told him, didn't you?"

"Of course," Shouta nodded, looking to Hitoshi. "Hey, kid, we're all having dinner together, tonight." Hitoshi, at least, found it funny. "Don't worry. It's at the cat cafe." And Hizashi found it funny how crazy these two were about cats. "At least, it will be if you can promise that there won't be any more _incidents_."

"That guy deserved it for kicking Mocha and you know it," Hitoshi argued back at once, Hizashi shaking his head as he gathered their bags and made sure they had everything together. "Besides, it was just some water."

Yes, 'just some water.' Hitoshi seemed to forget the part where he had brainwashed that nasty man into dumping the pitcher of water on his own head, though. Then again, Hizashi wasn't much better. He had been contemplating blowing out the man's eardrums.

"You have to admit it was pretty funny," Hizashi added on, watching Hitoshi perk up at having someone on his side. Shouta's expression, though, made it clear what he thought of their humor. "It was!"

"I can and will punish both of you," Shouta glowered, Hitoshi halfway through laughing before Shouta's gaze was on him. "If you use your quirk like that in public again, I will use our training sessions for the next _month_ to focus solely on meditation and study time." Ah. Hitoshi wasn't laughing anymore. "As for _you_."

" _First_ of all, I wasn't the cause of that incident! I only encouraged him _after_ it happened," Hizashi pointed out quickly, handing Hitoshi his bag and then ruffling his hair. " _Second_ of all, what would you even _make_ my punishment?" Because Shouta was so _soft_ and Hizashi honestly couldn't see Shouta following through on any sort of _real_ punishment.

Shouta paused before a slow smirk grew on his face, Hizashi feeling a shiver crawl up his spine at the quiet words of, "Do you want one that badly?"

"Right, that's my cue to get out of here, then," Hitoshi spoke up loudly, Hizashi almost jumping as the teen shook his head and headed for the door. "I'll meet you two by the gates."

"Don't get distracted by idiots this time," Shouta called after him, Hizashi smothering a laugh as he saw Hitoshi's ears turn red before the teen was quickening his pace and leaving the gym as fast as possible.

"There's no need to be so mean to him, Shou-chan," Hizashi chided, wrapping his arms around Shouta's shoulders as soon as the man was close and drawing him into a soft, now familiar kiss. Hizashi was never sure if he enjoyed the closeness of their kisses the most or the fact that Shouta always, _always_ pulled him _closer_.

Hizashi was thoroughly distracted by the time Shouta pulled back to kiss at his cheek, lips quirked up into a smile against his skin, "Maybe not, but it is fun. Are you really okay?" Hizashi wasn't sure why he _wouldn't_ be okay until he realized Shouta was probably referring to when he had gotten lost in his thoughts.

"I'm okay, Shouta," Hizashi whispered quietly, the words for Shouta and Shouta alone as he hugged the man close, burying a smile against him as he felt the hug returned just as tightly. "Thanks to you."

Over the last four months when everything was happening all at once, Hizashi had often found himself thinking on what might have happened if it hadn't been Eraserhead to find him on the night of his villainous debut.

"You know what I think, Shouta?" Hizashi asked quietly, feeling more than hearing Shouta's soft hum against him. "I think we always would have wound up like this. One way or another, I think it all would have led here."

Maybe there was a world out there where Shouta had been the villain and Hizashi had been the hero to get him to see that the world wasn't so bad.

Or perhaps the both of them met as villains and had decided that something needed to _change_ and slowly, so slowly, but so surely, saw that they could bring that change together.

It was possible there was even a world where they were both heroes and they had been friends from the start and had grown to be so much closer.

No matter what, though, Hizashi knew that it all led back to this. No matter the universe, he had a feeling that it always led back to Yamada Hizashi and Aizawa Shouta.

"Yeah… I think you're right." Shouta, as always, knew exactly what Hizashi was thinking. When he pulled back, he had on one of his small, genuine smiles, pressing another kiss to Hizashi's cheek. "And what's that smile about?"

"Mm, nothing." It was all so busy and overwhelming and hectic, but Hizashi couldn't help but to laugh as he hung onto Shouta tightly. "I just have a good feeling about the future, is all."

Shouta laughed, low and rough and sweet, and pulled back to drag Hizashi along with a soft, "Come on, hero."

Hero… It had a nice ring to it.


End file.
